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"Engraved,  from,  a  Photograph,  taken  expressly  for  this  "Work. 
A.D  ."WOKTEINCrTON  &  CD.  HAR.TFORI).  COOTT. 


SUNLIGHT  AND  SHADOW 


OR, 


GLEANINGS  FROM  MY  LIFE  WORK. 


COMPRISING 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  AND  OPINIONS,  ANECDOTES,  INCIDENTS, 
AND  REMINISCENCES, 


GATHEBED  FROM 


THIRTY-SEVEN  TEARS'  EXPERIENCE  ON  THE  PLATFORM 
AND  AMONG  THE  PEOPLE, 

AT    HOME    AND    ABROAD. 


BY  JOHK  B.  GOUGH. 


fy  .full-page  ©ngrabitrgs,  anb  f5t«l-pste  portrait  of 


I  will  restore  to  you  the  years  that  the  locust  hath  eaten. 

JOKL  ii.  25. 


HARTFORD,  CONN. 
A.   D.  WORTHINGTON  AND  COMPANY. 

A.  G.  NETTLETON  &  Co.,  CHICAGO,  ILLS.;  N.  D.  THOMPSON  &  Co.,  ST.  Louis,  MoM- 

W.  E.  DIBBLE,  CINCINNATI,  OHIO;  C.  C.  WICK  &  Co.,  CLEVELAND,  OHIO; 

F.  DEWING  &  Co.,  SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 

1881. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1880, 

BY  A.  D.  WORTHINGTON  AND  COMPANY, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


00 

OT 


HV 


QQ 


TO 


MY   WIFE, 


THE   FAITHFUL  FRIEND,   LOVING  HELPMEET, 

AND    JUDICIOUS    ADVISER    FOR 

THIRTY-EIGHT  YEARS; 

WITH  UNABATED  TRUST,  AND  EVER  INCREASING 
LOVE, 


kafc  tjjis 


259158 


PREFACE. 


IN*  the  preface  to  a  work  entitled  "The  Odious, 
Despicable,  and  Dreadful  Condition  of  a  Drunkard," 
by  Junius  Florilegus,  published  in  London  in  1649, 
the  writer  —  not  dreaming  that  an  American  would 
borrow  it  two  hundred  and  thirty  years  after  —  says : 

"Experience  teaches  that  no  one  thing  (be  it  the 
violet)  will  please  every  one.  That  nothing  is  more 
easie  than  to  finde  a  colour  of  exceptions.  That  men's 
censures  are  as  various  as  their  palats.  That  some 
are  as  deeply  in  love  with  vice  as  others  with  vertue. 
That  crossed  wickedness  proves  desperate,  and  in- 
stead of  yielding  seeks  for  revenge  of  its  own  sins 
upon  others'  uprightness.  Shall  I  then  make  myself 
the  subject  of  every  opinion,  wise  and  weak?  Yes, 
I  had  rather  hazard  the  censure  of  some  than  hinder 
the  good  of  others.  Again,  if  I  do  ill,  no  plea  can 
warrant  me;  I  cannot  be  discouraged  with  any  cen- 
sures; my  desire  is  to  satisfy  all  honest  minds* 
Therefore,  the  medicine  must  be  fitted  to  the  dis- 
ease; the  wedge  proportioned  to  the  timber;  for  the 
harder  and  more  knotty  our  hearts  are,  the  harder 

v 


VI  PREFACE. 

and  stronger  must  be  the  blows  and  wedges  that 
rive  them.  .  .  .  There  needs  neither  reasons  to  be 
given,  nor  excuses  or  apologies  to  be  made,  where 
the  word  is  our  warrant,  and  the  benefit  of  our  fellow- 
men  our  aim.  Thus  most  humbly  beseeching  God  to 
bless  this  effort,  I  leave  its  success  to  Hun,  and  its 
use  to  the  world." 

So,  borrowing  the  preface  of  Junius  Florilegus, 
written  in  1649,  I  send  out  my  book,  earnestly  hoping 
it  may  be  of  benefit  to  some,  and  harmful  to  none. 

JOHN  B.  GOUGH. 

HILLSIDE, 
Worcester,  October,  1880. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


1.  PORTRAIT  OF  THE  AUTHOR,  ON   STEEL Frontispiece. 

From  a  photograph  taken   expressly  for  this  work,  by  Fredericks',  New  York, 
in  August,  1880,  and  Engraved  on  Steel  by  J.  J.  Cade,  New  York. 


ENGRAVINGS    ON   WOOD. 

ARTIST.  ENGRAVES.  PAGE 

2.  TRAINING  SCHOOL  FOR  THIEVES.-) 

INTERIOR  OF  A  KEN  OR  LODGING  HOUSE.  (  *  G'  ^^utcheon.    J.P.Davis.   To  face  106 


3.  A  STREET   PREACHER  AND   HIS   AU- 
DIENCE 


£  Geo.  G. 


4.  ONE  OF  DEATH'S  VICTIMS—  THE  WIDOW  ) 

AND  THE  FATHERLESS  ...........  \Fred'  ck  Dielman.     Charles  Sfieigle.   "      HO 

5.  THE  BLOOD  ON  THE  CEILING  .....  F.O.C.  Darley.       John  Foster.        "      250 

6.  A  CELLAR  SCENE.  —  THE  BRUTE  AND  THE  i 


CELLAR  SCENE.  — THE  BRUTE  AND  THE) 
T  \Fred 'ck  Dielman.     J.P.Davis.        "     262 

-L.AMB.  •*••••*•••**•«*•*•) 

ilVEN  FROM  HOME.  —  THE  REFUGE  ON  ) 

. .                 „  >  Geo.  G.  White.         John  Karst.          "      270 

THE  MOUNTAIN  SIDE. ) 

HOMELESS  HOME. —DESTITUTION  AND/ 
D  )F.  O.  C.  Darley.       Charles  Speigle,   "     280 


9.  RUM'S  FOOTPRINT.  — DEATH  AND  DRINK.  .  F.  O.  C.  Darley.       N.  Orr  &*  Co.     "      294 

10.  REV.  C.  H.  SPURGEON  AND  MR.  GOUGH  > 

\F.  O.  C.  Darley.       John  Karst.          "      408 
AT  THE  BEDSIDE  OF  THE  DYING  BOY.  .  .  > 

11.  MEMORIES    OF    THE    GARRET    BED-) 

\  F.O.C.  Darky.       N.  Orr  &  Co.      "      456 

12.  A  FATHER  STEALING  A  TESTAMENT) 

FROM   HIS  DYING  CHILD \S.  G.  McCutcheon.     Charles  S*&.  "     520 

13.  LOOKING  FOR  FATHER. —AN  INCIDENT) 

\  F.O.C.  Darley.        J.P.Davis.        "      534 

THAT  LED  TO  THE  REFORM  OF  A  RUMSELLER  \ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
LOOKING  BACK  OVER  LIFE. 

Retrospection  and  Reflection  — " The  Chief  End  of  Man"  — The 
Secret  of  Happiness  —  Experience,  a  Teacher — The  Guiding  Hand 

—  Trifling  Incidents  and  Momentous  Consequences  —  My  Father  in 
the  English  Army  —  Famine  and  Despair  —  Lying  down  to  die  — 
Struggling  back  to   Life  —  Looking  for  Work  —  The  Office  Boy  — 
The  Shop  Boy  —  Power  of  Circumstances  in  shaping  Character  — 
Man,  Arbiter  of  his  own  Fortune  —  Knotty  Problems  —  Dr.  Wm.  M. 
Taylor's  Advice  —  Unbelief  no  Refuge  —  Boast  of  Napoleon  —  Cir- 
cumstances not  despotic  —  Influence  of  Early  Training  —  My  "First 
Shop" — Downward  Road  easy  —  Turn  in  the  Tide  —  "Man's  Ex- 
tremity, God's  Opportunity  "  —  Seven  Years'  Night — "Morning  Light " 

—  The  Day  —  Striving  upwards  —  Aim  of  this  Volume,     .    Page  23 

CHAPTER   II. 

OUR  WELCOME  TO  ENGLAND  -  OLD  AND  NEW  FRIENDS. 

Revisiting  England  —  The  Welcome  —  Old  Friends  missed  —  Kindness 
of  Dean  Stanley — "Sermons  in  Stones"  —  Coronation  Scenes  — 
Downing  Street  —  First  Address  in  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  —  An 
Overpowering  Reception  —  Warm  Heart  and  Open  Purse  —  Early 
Dinners  and  Success  —  Mercantile  Life  —  The  Flowing  Bowl  in 
Business  —  "  Brackley-Street  Mission  "  —  Costermongers'  Homes  — 
War  Nurses  — "The  Gift  of  Giving "  — Children  taking  the  Pledge 
— Total  Abstinence  pays — Value  of  Half  a  Sovereign  —  "A  Jolly 
Good  Fellow  "  —  Rebuking  Evil  in  High  Places  —  "Another  Nail  in 
my  Coffin"  —  England's  Lord  High  Chancellor  —  His  Official  Dig- 
nity—  Amazing  Progress  —  The  Great  Supper  —  Temperance  in 
English  Parlors  —  "  Persistence  a  Cardinal  Virtue,"  .  .  .32 

viii 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER    EEL 
STEEET  LIFE  AND  SCENES  IN  THE  WORLD'S  METROPOLIS. 

London  —  Life  in  the  Metropolis  —  Great  Contrasts  —  Unknown 
Depths  —  "The  London  Market"  —  Shops  of  London  —  Streets  and 
Palaces  —  Distinctive  Communities  —  A  World  in  Miniature  — 
Street  People  —  Cab  Experience  —  Gathering  a  Crowd  —  "  Vot's 
hup,  Cabby?  "  —  Excitements  of  the  Streets —  Street  Children  —  "  It 
looks  werry  nice,  Sir  "  —  Street  Boys'  Histories  —  Awful  Surround- 
ings in  Childhood  —  "  Never  had  a  Chance  "  —  Barnabas  or  Barab- 
bas?  —  After  the  Funeral  —  How  the  Boy  became  an  Outcast  — 
Vice  and  Crime  —  The  Orphan's  Lot  —  Sixteen  Hundred  Waifs—* 
Sleeping  in  an  Iron  Roller  and  in  the  Boot  of  an  Omnibus  —  "  We 
must  go  to  Business  "  —  Money-Making  —  Diving  in  Sewers  — 
"  Mud-Larks  "  —  "  Wagabones  and  Hactors  "  —  Street  Arabs  — 
"  Peeler's  "  Difficulties  —  Street-Boys'  Wit  —  "  Penny  "  Merchants 
— Street  Wares  —  Cheap  Books  —  "  Raising  the  Wind,"  .  .  55 

CHAPTER  IV. 
HIGH  AND  LOW  LIFE  IN  LONDON  —  CABMEN  AND  COCKNEYS. 

Cabmen  of  London:  their  Great  Number — "Exact  Fare"  —  "I  shan't 
forget  the  Phiz  "  —  A  Dandy  discomfited  —  Wealth  of  London  — 
Men  who  have  risen  —  "  Cats'-Meat "  —  Where  the  Dead  Horses 
go  —  Fortunes  by  Sharp  Practice  —  Roguery  reduced  to  a  System  — 
The  Wine  Business  —  Tricks  of  Trade  —  High  Art  —  Auctioneers 

—  Jockeyism  and  Horses  —  Bought    his   Own  Horse  —  Londoner's 
Self-Esteem —  "  Connoisseurship  in  Wines  "  —  Tricks  of  Professional 
Beggars  —  The   Blind  Man  who  could    see  —  "  Eddicatin'  Dogs  " 

—  The  Lord  Mayor's  Show  —  Hardships  of  the  Lord  Mayor's  Office 

—  "Who  is  He?"— Self-made  Men  — Lord  Rothschild's  Remark  on 
"  Selling  Matches  "  —  Schools  of    the    Corporation  —  Disrespectful 
Children  —  "'Ow  is  yer  'Elth?"  —  Inconvenience  of  the  Letter  H. 

—  The  Gentleman's  Story  —  Meeting  with  an  "  Hawful  Hend  "  — 
Dilemma  of  the  Alderman's  Daughter  —  The  Omnibus  Conductor's 
Vocabulary 71 

CHAPTER  V. 

JUSTICE  AND  INJUSTICE  —  SCENES  IN  THE  CRIMINAL  COURTS 

OF  LONDON. 

The  Old  Bailey  —  A  Complete  Establishment  —  "  Tried  in  Drawing- 
Room  ;  hanged  in  Back  Kitchen  "  —  A  Criminal  Trial,  a  Sensation 
Drama  —  Waiting  for  the  Verdict  —  Atmosphere  of  the  Dock  — 


CONTENTS. 

Crime  shown  in  the  Face  —  The  Ragged  Youth  and  his  Counsel  — 
—  Police  Courts — Ludicrous  Scenes  —  Women's  Quarrels  —  "The 
Love-lorn  Widder  "  —  Supporting  Nine  Children  —  The  Irishman's 
Family  at  the  Bar  —  Disagreeing  Evidence  —  Children  hired  out 
to  Beggars  —  The  Magistrate  and  the  Chimney  Sweep  —  Drunken- 
ness the  Path  to  the  Police  Court — "Taking  in"  People  —  Bird 
Fanciers  cheated  —  Painted  Sparrows  —  Uncertainty  of  the  Law  — 
The  Thief  and  his  Cherries  —  Barnacles  —  Expense  of  the  Civil 
Service  —  Government  Leeches — The  Mysterious  Warning  —  Pre- 
mium on  Idleness  —  "  How  not  to  do  it," 84 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LIFE    AMONG    COSTERMONGERS,    BEGGARS,    AND     THIEVES  — 
SCENES   AT   VICTORIA   THEATRE. 

The  Costermongers  —  "  Picking  up  Crusts  "  —  Street  Fellowship  — 
Religion  and  Respectability  —  Kindness  appreciated  —  Children 
near  Houndsditch  —  The  Coster  Boy  —  In  Business  for  Himself — 
Chaffing  a  "  Peeler  "  —  Forgiveness  a  Rare  Trait  —  The  Coster  Girl 

—  Profound  Ignorance  —  Forced  to  Cheat  —  "It's  werry  'ard,  isn't 
it,    Sir?" — Shaming    the    Donkey  —  Costermonger's    Education  — 
Victoria  Theatre  —  The  Multitude  of  Boys  and  Girls  —  Excitements 
in  the  Gallery  —  "  Pull  hup  that  'ere  Vinder  Blind  "  —  "  Light  up  the 
Moon  "  —  Reception  of  a  Tragedy  —  Whitechapel  and  Butchers'  Row 

—  Scene  of  a  Saturday  Night  —  Penny  Gaff  or  Theatre  —  Dirt,  Smoke, 
and  Vulgarity  —  "  'Ere's  yer  Pannj^rammar  "  —  "  Legitimit  Dramay  " 

—  Ratcliffe  Highway  —  Ballad   Singers  —  Street  Scenes  —  Catching 
Sailors  —  The  Sailor's  "Futtergruff "  —  Beer  Houses  and  Gin  Shops 

—  Beggars  and  Thieves  —  Inside  a  Thieves'  Lodging  House  —  The 
Countryman's  Adventure, 93 


CHAPTER  VII. 

HAUNTS    OF    CRIME  —  THE    CITY   MISSIONARIES    OF   LONDON 
AND   THEIR   WORK. 

London  essentially  cosmopolitan  —  Byron's  "  Superb  Menagerie "  — 
Thackeray's  "  Vanity  Fair  "  —  Solitude  in  the  Crowd  —  Munificent 
Charities  —  Cures  for  eveiy  111  —  The  Aristocracy  —  Extremes  of 
Character  —  The  Middle  Class  —  Homes  of  Virtue  —  "The  Bray  of 
Exeter  Hall"  —  City  Missionaries  —  Heroism  in  "Little  Hell"  — 
"Never  rob  a  Parson"  —  Training-Schools  for  Thieves  —  Practising 
at  picking  Pockets"  —  Perverse  Judgments  of  Perverse  Natures  — 


CONTENTS.  XI 

At  Enmity  with  the  World  —  "The  Gospel-Grinder"  —  Philosophy 
of  a  Boy-Thief — Selling  "Hinguns"  —  A  Rough-and-Ready  Mis- 
sionary —  "  No  Genus  in  picking  a  Pocket "  —  "  Fear  makes  Cow- 
ards of  us  "  —  Religion  hurts  the  Business  —  A  Publican  spoiled  — 
Real  Courage  —  The  Sermon  of  the  Converted  Sweep  —  Parable 
of  the  Ignorant  Cabman  —  Rough  Welcome  to  the  Preacher,  .  110 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

WAR  WITH  VICE  —  TEMPERANCE  WORK  AMONG  THE    DESTI- 
TUTE  AND   DEPRAVED. 

Street-Preachers  —  Fitness  for  their  Work  —  A  Striking  Scene  — 
"  Music  with  no  Melody,  Laughter  with  no  Mirth  "  —  "  Murder,  Mur- 
der, Police !  "  —  The  Street  -  Preacher  and  his  Audience  —  Plain 
Preaching  and  its  Power  —  "  Reformatory  and  Refuge  Union "  — 
Thirty-four  Benevolent  Institutions  under  One  Control  —  Good  Work 
of  a  Brewer's  Son  —  Lambeth  Baths  —  Hoxton  Hall  —  A  Converted 
Building  —  William  Noble's  Mission — The  Blue-Ribbon  Army  — 
An  Audience  of  Reformed  Men  —  "  London  Times "  on  Gough  in 
Hoxton  Hall  —  Report  of  the  "  Record "  on  the  same  Meeting — 
Four  Great  Branches  of  the  Temperance  Work  —  United  Kingdom 
Alliance  —  Temperance  in  Politics  —  "  Medical  Temperance  So- 
ciety "  —  "  London  Temperance  Hospital "  —  Eight  Thousand  Patients 
in  Six  Years  —  Medicine  without  Alcohol  —  Results,  .  .  .123 


CHAPTER  IX. 
TRAGEDIES  —  THE   SHADY   SIDE   OF  LIFE. 

Power  of  Kindness  —  The  Scotch  Minister  and  the  "Brute  "  —  "I'll  kick 
you  down  stairs"  —  "The  most  God-forsaken  Wretch  on  Earth"  — 
Perseverance  rewarded  —  "Clothed  and  in  his  Right  Mind" — The 
States-Prison  Convict  —  "  The  Cold,  Glittering  Eye  "  —  The  Hard 
Heart  melted  —  The  Mother's  Influence  —  Scene  in  Gray's-Inn 
Lane  —  The  Excited  Crowd  —  The  Tattered  Group,  and  Death 
among  them  —  The  "Bullet-headed  Man"  —  "'Ere's  a  Swell  vants 
to  know  vat's  the  Matter  "  —  Alone  with  the  Mob  —  Striking  Experi- 
ence with  a  London  Crowd  of  the  Worst  Chaisicters  —  An  Easy  Es- 
cape —  Men  beyond  Sympathy  —  The  Toad  in  the  Stone  —  The 
Murderer  in  the  Portland  Prison  —  Celebrating  his  Release  by  a 
Booze  —  Human  Parasites  —  Trading  on  the  Benevolence  and  Gen- 
erosity of  the  Soft-hearted  —  Tramps  —  Soup-Kitchens  —  Getting 
Something  for  Nothing  —  Able-bodied  "  Sponges  on  the  Gener- 
ous"—  "  Loafing  Gentry  "  and  Shirks, 135 


Xll  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    X. 

AMONG    THE    POOR  —  THE     TRAFFIC    IN    DRINK  —  SOCIETY'S 

CURSE. 

Sunday-Morning  Breakfasts  for  Waifs  —  Homeless  Multitudes  —  A 
Strange  Audience  —  Economizing  for  a  Drink  —  The  Man  who 
loved  Beer  —  His  heroic  Self-Defence  —  A  Pint  every  Two  Hours 
—  "  Breakfast  for  Nothing  "  —  Thirty  Yeai-s  lost  —  Drink,  the  Cause 
and  Curse  of  Poverty  —  Soup-Kitchen  in  Glasgow  —  Free  Sunday- 
Morning  Breakfasts  in  Edinburgh  —  Seventeen  Hundred  Victims  of 
Drink  —  "  We  get  Hot  Victuals  at  Home  "  —  "  Ducks  and  Green 
Peas  "  —  "  Good  Times  "  turned  to  "  Hard  Times  "  —  Extravagance 
of  the  Poor  —  Satire  of  "  Punch  "  —  The  Irish  Famine  —  Distilleries 
at  Work  —  "  Irish  Distress,  Irish  Drinking  "  —  Burton-on-Trent  — 
Bass's  Beer-Mills  — Bass's  Annual  Beer-Profits  £450,000  —  The  Drink 
Bill  —  London  Paper  upon  Mr.  Bass,  M.P.,  ....  147 


CHAPTER    XI. 

LIFE    AMONG    THE    LOWLY  —  HOMELESS  HOMES  —  DARKNESS 

AND   LIGHT. 

Homes  of  the  London  Poor  —  Cellar  Dwellings  —  Description  of  a 
Court  in  Gray's-Inn  Lane  —  King  Cholera  —  Horrible  Filth  — 
"  Work  in  the  Five  Dials  "  —  Dark  Pictures  of  Life  —  Tour  of  In- 
spection with  Hon.  Maude  Stanley  —  Visiting  Low  Localities  —  My 
Audience  —  A  Motley  Crowd  —  Coifee-Palace  opened  by  Dean  Stan- 
ley—The Bright  Side  — The  Honest  Girl  in  the  Thieves'  Court  — 
The  Newspaper- Vender  and  the  Pocket-Book — "A  Real  Case"  — 
Artful  Dodges  —  The  Workman's  Independence  —  "  Principled  agin 
taking  Money  "  —  Trust  and  Patience  of  the  Poor  —  Life  among  the 
Lowly  —  The  Crippled  Saint  —  Blue  Skies  reflected  from  Muddy 
Pools  —  The  Story  of  Thomas  Wright  —  A  Devoted  Son  —  Exam- 
ples of  Nobility  in  Humble  Life  —  Demands  for  Human  Sympa- 
thy,   156 


'  CHAPTER    XII. 

OPPOSITION    TO    PROGRESS  —  THE    WORLD'S    BENEFACTORS, 
AND   WHAT   THEY   HAVE   ENDURED. 

Great  Discoverers  and  Inventors  —  The  Opposition  they  have  met  — 
Satire  upon  Dr.  Jenner  —  An  Amusing  Picture  —  Employing  the 
Assistance  of  the  Devil  —  The  "  Swing  Swang  "  —  Practice  often 


CONTENTS. 


against  Theories  —  "Horses  going  to  the  Dogs"  —  Liverpool  & 
Manchester  Railway  —  Railway  Engines  and  Sheep's  Wool  —  Alarm- 
ing Predictions  —  The  Old  Coachman  —  Heroism  for  the  Truth's 
Sake  —  Puritanic  Strictness  —  The  New-England  Sabbath  —  "Strain- 
ing at  a  Gnat  "  —  Drunk  on  the  Sabbath  —  Whistling  for  a  Dog  — 
Wife-thrashing  and  Sabbath-breaking  —  True  Liberty  and  Sunday 
Trains  —  Testimonies  to  the  Christian  .Sabbath:  Macaulay,  Black- 
stone,  Adam  Smith,  Webster,  Theodore  Parker,  &c.  —  Holiday  not 
Holy  Day  —  Jurists  and  the  Sabbath  —  Physicians  and  the  Sabbath 
—  Statesmen  and  the  Sabbath  —  The  Old  Book  —  Liberty  under 
Law,  ............  167 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

MANLINESS     AND    MORAL     PRINCIPLE  —  INDUSTRY    VERSUS 

IDLENESS. 

False  Ideas  of  Manliness  —  Physical  Strength  no  Test  —  Lord  Bacon  a 
Swindler  —  Fast  Living,  cowardly  —  Horse-Racing  and  Prize-Fight- 
ing —  Manliness  is  Godliness  —  False  Opinions  scorn  Labor  —  "  Only 
a  Mechanic "  —  The  Fashion  of  Useless  People  —  "  Only  a  Third- 
class  Carriage  "  —  Story  concerning  Lady  Charlotte  Guest  —  The 
Cinder-hole  —  Labor  and  Etiquette  —  Idle  Men  mischievous  —  The 
Dandy  —  Consequences  of  a  Useless  Life  —  Career  of  Beau  Brum- 
mell — The  Fop  in  a  Breach-of-Promise  Suit  —  Influence  of  Society 
upon  us  —  Example  better  than  Precept  —  Value  of  a  Noble  Life  — 
Ministers  and  the  Half-price  —  Genius  no  Substitute  for  Moral  Prin- 
ciple —  Burns's  Perverted  Genius  —  The  Painter  Haydon,  .  .  178 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

HAPPINESS    AND    TRUE     HEROISM  —  GOLD,    WHAT    IT    DOES 
AND  WHAT  IT  DOES  NOT  BRING. 

Signing  away  Liberty  —  False  Ideas  of  Happiness  —  Rothschild  —  John 
Jacob  Astor  —  A  Girl's  Idea  of  Perfect  Happiness  —  The  Snow- 
blocked  Train  —  Lord  Chesterfield's  Confession  —  Irishman's  Com- 
plaint of  the  Moon  — "If"  — The  Two  Buckets  — Sir  John  Sinclair 
and  the  Laborer  —  "A  New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts"  —  The  History 
of  Misers  —  Experience  of  a  Millionnaire  —  "  The  Happiest  Fellows 
in  the  World  "  —  Anecdote  of  John  Wilson  —  Happiness  among  the 
Poor  —  Lord  Braco  and  the  Farthing  —  The  Celebrity  and  his  Hat  — 
The  Burden  of  a  Debt  —  The  Clergyman  and  the  Collection  —  Dodging 
Creditors  —  Indebtedness  degrades  —  Extravagance  —  Church  Debts 
—  Sacrifice  for  Others  —  Moral  Heroism  —  Victory  over  Self,  .  187 


XIV  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

KNOWLEDGE     AND     CURIOSITY  —  ABSURD    BLUNDERS     AND 
LAUGHABLE   MISTAKES. 

What  is  Knowledge?  —  Ignorance  with  a  Library  —  Wisdom  is  applied 
Knowledge  —  George  Cruikshank  the  Simon  Pure  —  Blunders  in 
Spelling  —  "  Preshus  Sole"  —  Laughable  Mistakes  —  The  Deacon 
who  thought  he  could  preach  —  Anecdote  of  Robert  Hall  —  Self- 
knowledge  and  Physical  Health  —  Knowing  Others  —  "Brass"  no 
Test  of  Character — Misjudging  Others  —  Knowledge  through  His- 
tory—  Goodness  —  Mental  Cultivation  and  Moral  Corruption  —  In- 
quisitiveness  —  "  Funnels  of  Conversation  "  —  How  a  Man  lost  his 
Leg  —  Anecdote  of  John  Randolph  —  Misapplied  Labor  —  Dinner 
and  Duel  —  How  to  collect  a  Crowd  —  Van  Amburg's  Lion  —  Feats 
of  Legerdemain  —  Sir  Charles  Napier  and  the  Indian  Juggler  —  Ig- 
norance and  Superstition  — Whimsical  Vagaries  —  Senseless  "  Omens  " 
—  Sowing  for  the  Harvest  —  Immortality  revealed  —  De  Quincey 
upon  the  Present — Faith  a  Necessity  —  The  Story  of  Poor  Joe,  202 


CHAPTER    XVI. 
COMEDIES— THE   HUMOROUS   SIDE   OF  LIFE. 

The  Art  of  Putting  Things  —  Illustrative  Anecdotes  —  Macklin  at  the 
Theatre  —  The  Smoker  on  a  Coach  —  Mr.  Parker's  Preaching  —  Man- 
aging Others  —  The  Scolding  Schoolmaster  —  The  Inhuman  Teacher 
—  Appeals  to  Honor  better  than  Brutality  —  The  Model  Principal  — 
The  College  President's  Lecture  on  Spontaneous  Combustion — The 
College  President  guarding  his  New  Roost  —  The  Midnight  Ride  — 
Acknowledgment  of  Errors  —  Bonnie  Christie  —  Matter-of-fact  Peo- 
ple —  "  Six-penny  Caliker  "  —  No  Devils  ever  cast  out  of  a  Man  — 
The  Quaker's  Answer  —  The  Physician  and  the  Stone-Mason  —  A 
Digression,  but  not  an  Argument  —  Henderson  the  Actor  —  Differ- 
ence between  Settling  down  and  Settling  up  —  Wit  of  Dr.  Samuel 
Cox  —  The  Conceited  Count  —  Practical  Jokes  —  My  Sacramento  Ac- 
quaintance,   225 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

VICTIMS   OF   DRINK— SCENES   FROM  LIFE. 

Beer  as  a  Beverage  —  Beer  Drunkenness  among  Women  —  Great  Brit- 
ain's Curse  —  "  Doctored  "  Beer  —  The  Inside  of  a  London  Gin-Palace 
-What  is  "All  Sorts"?  — Kinahan's  L.  L. —The  Landlord  — The 
Bar- Maid  —  The  Customers  —  Life  in  the  Bar-Room  —  Disgraceful 


CONTENTS.  XV 

Scenes  —  "  Fair  Play  "  —  What  the  "  London  Times  "  says  —  A  "  Gen- 
teel" Gin-Palace  —  Rev.  Win.  Arnot  on  the  Liquor  Traffic — The 
Fratricide  —  A  Hardened  Woman  —  The  Gambler's  Suicide  —  A  Hor- 
rible Sight  —  Suicide  of  McConnell  — The  Blood-Stains  on  the  Floor — 
The  Meanest  Man  in  the  World  —  The  Rumseller's  Bargain  —  Result 
of  the  Trade  —  Dr.  Guthrie's  Testimony  —  That  of  Canon  Farrar  — 
"  Fruits  of  the  Traffic "  —  A  Ghastly  Story  of  the  Prisoner  at  Dart- 
mouth —  The  Convict's  Story — Rum  and  Murder  —  Remorse  — Wait- 
ing for  Death,  242 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

DESPAIR    AND    DEATH  —  STORIES    OF    RUINED    HOMES     AND 
BROKEN   HEARTS. 

The  Prisoner's  Testimony  —  How  Prisons  are  filled  —  The  Offspring  of 
Drink  —  Appalling  Statistics  —  The  Inhuman  Father  —  Selling  a  Child 
for  Two  Pairs  of  Stockings  —  Getting  drunk  with  the  Proceeds  —  The 
Drunken  Mother  and  her  Dying  Children  —  An  Affecting  Stoiy  — 
Sufferings  in  the  Best  Circles  —  A  Terrible  Stoiy  —  The  Brutal  Hus- 
band and  his  Dead  Wife  —  Horrible  Brutality  —  Truth  stranger  than 
Fiction  —  The  Clergyman's  Suicide  —  The  Lawyer's  Despair  and 
Death  —  Rum  unmakes  the  Gentleman  —  A  Dreadful  Domestic  Scene 

—  The  Beaten  and  Disfigured  Wife  —  Destruction  of  Property  —  The 
Mountaineer's  Home  —  Rum-Madness  —  Driven    from    Home  —  The 
Night    on    the    Mountain — Terrible   Destitution    and  Sufferings  — 
The  Desolate  Home  —  Enticed  to  a  Grog-Shop  —  A  Drunken  Sot  — 
The  Winter's  Night  —  Eaten  by  Swine, 259 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

FOOTPRINTS  OF  RUM— STORIES  OF  RUINED  HOMES  AND 
BROKEN  HEARTS  (CONTINUED). 

A  Cry  from  Connecticut  —  Drunkenness  worse  than  Death  —  Five  Days 
with  Delirium  Tremens  —  Hope  deferred  —  The  Drunkard's  Adopted 
Child  —  The  Murdered  Babe  —  The  Wife  shielding  the  Murderer,  only 
to  be  murdered  herself — The  Murderer's  Suicide  —  Last  Scenes  in  the 
Domestic  Tragedy  —  The  Drunkard  and  his  Dead  Wife  —  The  Drunken 
Clergyman  preaching  Old  Sermons  —  Stealing  Postage-Stamps  to  buy 
Rum  —  Another  Clergyman  ruined  by  Drink  —  An  Unfeeling  Father 

—  Stealing  his  Little  Boy's  Shoes  to  buy  Drink  —  The  Drunkard's  Cry 

—  Pity  for  the  Victims  — A  Blasted  Life  — The  Drunkard's  "Ode  to 
the    Departing  Year"  — "What   of  the    Ship?"— The   Redeemed 
Man's  Narrative  —  Evils  of  Social  Drinking  —  Bitter  Recollections  — 
Maddening  Desire  for  Drink  —  What  is  to  be  done?  —  The   Dram- 
Shops  of  Birmingham  —  Sunday  Drinking  —  Terrible  Results,  .     275 


XVI  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"SECRETS"  AND  "TRICKS"  OF  THE  LIQUOR  TRADE  —  A 
GLANCE  BEHIND  THE  SCENES. 

Rum  is  Rum  the  World  over  —  Drunken  Mohammedan  is  said  to  have 
"gone  to  Jesus"  —  Speech  of  Canon  Farrar  —  Ludicrous  Side  of  the 
Question  —  The  Connoisseurs  of  Liquors  —  Wine- Drinkers  hum- 
bugged—  The  Secret  of  Success  in  the  Manufacture  of  Liquors  — 
—  Ingredients  —  How  "Imported  Cognac  Brandy"  is  made  —  How 
Schiedam  Schnapps  and  Common  Gin  are  made  —  Champagne  Re- 
ceipt—  "  Native  Catawba  Wines  "  made  without  Grapes  —  "  Fine  Old 
Port"  —  Receipts  for  making  Porter — "Ale"  good  to  sleep  on;  how 
made  —  To  the  Uninitiated  —  How  to  bottle  neatly  —  Sugar  of  Lead 
as  a  Sweetener  —  Filthiness  no  Hindrance  to  the  Drinker  —  The 
Effect  of  these  Revelations — The  Slaves  of  Fashion,  .  .  .  290 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

SOME    OF  MY  EXPERIENCES   WITH    BRAZEN-FACED    PEOPLE. 

The  Life  of  a  Public  Man  —  Peculiar  Annoyances  —  Kind  Treatment  of 
the  Press  —  "  Interviewing  "  —  An  Unfortunate  Little  Notice  —  "John 
B.  Gough  lying  dangerously  ill "  —  Mistakes  in  reporting  Lectures  — 
Amusing  Specimen  —  Applications  for  Help  —  Begging  Letter- Writ- 
ers —  Tramps  preferable  to  these  —  Extracts  from  Begging-Letters  — 
Young  Man's  Strange  Request  for  Fifteen  Hundred  Dollars  —  Re- 
quest for  One  Thousand  Dollars  —  What  the  Lord  is  reported  to  have 
said  —  One  Thousand  Dollars  wanted  to  educate  two  Nieces —  "I  am 
taken  in  "  —  Notes  and  Promises  to  Pay  —  A  New  Method  —  A  Cu- 
rious Plan  of  Professionals  —  Begging  "  Mediums  "  —  Letter  purport- 
ing to  come  from  my  Mother  —  An  Incident  in  Scotland,  .  .  304 

CHAPTER   XXH. 

AMUSING    EXPERIENCES    WITH    LETTER-WRITERS,  BEGGARS, 
AND   ASPIRANTS   FOR  FAME. 

Letter- Writers  and  their  Wants  —  A  Lady  "wishes  to  get  married;" 
full  Particulars  —  Specimen  of  a  Class  of  Oddities  —  What  "the 
Simple  Son  of  a  Carpenter  "  desires  —  An  Unappreciated  Benefactor 
of  his  Country  —  A  "Big  Thing"  to  be  accomplished  —  Applications 
for  Old  Lectures — The  Ambitious  Young  Man  with  a  "Hobby"  — 
An  Aspirant  for  Fame  —  Newspaper  Man  wishes  two  "Worn-out" 
Lectures  —  Request  for  a  "Moddle"  Lecture  —  Receipt  for  a  "Mod- 
die"  Lecture  —  A  Few  Hints  to  the  Ambitious  —  Requests  for  Auto- 


CONTENTS. 


graphs  —  Levying  Black-mail  —  Take  Warning  —  Dr.  Chalmers  on 
Autographs  —  Demand  for  Photographs  —  "  Very  like  a  Bore  "  —  Not 
limited  to  Friends  —  Comical  Arrangements  of  these  Pictures  —  Side 
by  Side  with  the  Gorilla 315 


CHAPTER   XXHI. 

UNENDURABLE     BORES  —  MY   EXPERIENCES    WITH    THEM  — 
AFFECTATION   AND   "  STYLE." 

A  Class  of  Bores  —  An  Aggravating  Case  —  Its  Sequel  —  Incident  of  a 
Lecture — Two  Hingham  Callers  —  The  Brilliant  Young  Man  in  a 
Joking  Mood  —  The  Conundrum,  "  Canaan  "  —  "  Old  Dog  Tray  "  — 
President  Woolsey  and  the  Joking  Boy  —  Cultivation  of  Affectation  — 
Indifference  —  Imitating  Enthusiasm  —  Affectation  turning  into  a 
"Lithp" —  Unstylish  Persons  in  Style — Tarts  "  Fourpence  a-Piece, 
Ma'am  "  —  Late-Comers  in  Church  and  Lecture  —  "  Who  art  thou?  " 
—  An  Officer  of  Her  Majesty's  Service  —  Making  Puns  —  Dealing 
with  the  Superlative  in  Conversation  —  Common  Mistakes  —  Petty 
Expressions  —  "  Lor',  how  cunning ! " — Exaggerations  in  Speech  — 
Trivial  Faults  mar  the  Enjoyments  of  Life,  ....  328 


CHAPTER   XXTV. 

THE  SPEAKER    AND  HIS  AUDIENCE  —  ANECDOTES  AND  INCI- 
DENTS. 

Dread  of  an  Audience  —  Personal  Physical  Suffering  —  Mutual  Sympa- 
thy required  —  Incident  in  the  Church  of  Dr.  Joseph  Parker  —  Efforts 
at  Reading  a  Hymn  —  Experience  with  President  Finney  at  Aber- 
deen —  The  Minister's  "  Supplication  "  —  Involuntary  Selection  of  Per- 
sons in  every  Audience  —  My  Feelings  on  the  Platform  —  Yivid  Rec- 
ollections—  My  Stolid  Hearer  —  Method  of  Preparing  Lectures  — 
Five  Thousand  Temperance  Addresses  in  Seventeen  Years  —  Inter- 
view with  the  Actor  Macready  —  His  Method  —  My  Early  Experi- 
ence with  Books  —  "  Rollins'  Ancient  History,"  and  "  Putnam's  Li- 
brary "  —  My  Earlier  Addresses  —  Gathering  and  Using  Materials  — 
Incident  at  Rhinebeck  —  Illustration  from  Niagara  Falls  —  Taking 
an  Awful  Risk  before  an  Audience  —  Taking  down  the  Scaffolding 
from  my  Temple  —  An  Interesting  Experience  —  "  Gough  is  a  Story- 
teller "— A  Silly  Charge  — The  Wonderful  Story  —  "  Gough  a  Re- 
tailer of  Anecdotes  "  —  My  Sense  of  the  Ridiculous  —  Value  of  Inci- 
dents,   341 

1 


XV111  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

WHAT   OPPOSITION    WE    MEET  — FALSE    CHARGES    AND   MIS- 
REPRESENTATIONS. 

"  Gough  not  a  Thinker "  —  Unexplainable  Knowledge  —  Plagiarism 
and  its  Meaning  —  Satire  on  Plagiarism  of  "  The  Little  Busy 
Bee "  —  Gough's  Apostrophe  to  Water,  and  that  by  Paul  Denton 
—  History  of  its  Inception  —  Reply  to  a  Shameless  Attack  —  In- 
creased Consumption  of  Beer  —  Our  Pullman  Cars  and  Liquor- 
drinking  —  Increase  of  Intemperance  in  Thirty  Years  —  Worces- 
ter as  an  Example  —  1843  and  1880  —  Washingtonianism  —  Drink- 
ing among  Ministers  —  Drinking  among  Women  —  Murder  as  ex- 
cited by  Beer  —  Hereditary  Effects  of  Beer-drinking  —  Paper  cir- 
culated by  Life  Insurance  Men  —  Reported  Interview  with  the  Oxford 
Students  —  The  True  Story,  and  the  Scene  —  The  Happy  Conclu- 
sion  356 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

ON  THE  PLATFORM  — PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES  AS  A  PUBLIC 

SPEAKER. 

The  Judge's  Speech  —  Power  of  his  Example  —  "  Give  it  to  him,  Old 
Man  "  —  Self-Possession  necessary  under  Embarrassments  —  Man  in 
Faneuil  Hall,  and  Story  for  his  Benefit  —  Woman  and  her  Crying 
Child  — "Did  he  lose  his  Eggs?"  — One  Handkerchief  for  Two  — 
Power  of  Audience  over  the  Speaker  —  The  Man  with  the  Newspaper 
—  How  the  whispering  Young  Ladies  were  stopped  —  Cultivation  of 
the  Voice  —  Power  of  Sarcasm  —  The  Donkey  at  Snowdon  —  Sar- 
casm of  O'Connell  on  Benjamin  Disraeli  —  John  Randolph  and  the 
"Vacant"  Seat  — Tom  Marshall's  "Demijohn"  all  but  the  Straw  — 
Personal  Experience  under  Trying  Circumstances  —  "  Here's  one  of 
your  Cigars,  Mr.  Gough  "  —  Quotations  from  Locke  and  Walter  Scott 
which  were  not  Quotations, 370 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MEN    I    HAVE    KNOWN  — PULPIT    AND    OTHER    ORATORS   OF 
GREAT  BRITAIN. 

Public  Speakers  —  Lectures  I  have  heard  —  Personal  Experience  as  to 
Public  Occasions  —  Ministerial  and  other  Acquaintances  —  Thomas 
Guthrie,  D.D. — The  Audience — Guthrie's  Philanthropy  —  His  Ap- 
pearance in  the  Pulpit  —  Not  a  "Weeping  Preacher" — My  first 


CONTENTS. 


Impressions  —  Power  of  his  Utterance  —  William  Arnot,  D.D.  — 
Appearance  and  Manner  —  "  Figs  of  Thistles  "  —  Newman  Hall,  D.D.  — 
Lincoln  Tower  of  Christ  Church  —  Mr.  Martin  of  Westminster  Chapel  — 
Strange  Texts  —  "  Man  of  One  Book  "  —  Cowper's  Model  Preacher  — 
Some  of  my  Chairmen  —  Lord  Shaftesbnry  —  John  Bright  —  Bright's 
Speech  at  Henry  Darby's  Feast  —  Sir  Fitzroy  Kelley  :  his  Style  and 
Manner  —  Joseph  Parker,  D.D.  —  Immense  Power  —  Pulpit  Apolo- 
getic Manners  out  of  Place  —  Dr.  Parker  at  Home,  and  as  a  Preacher 
—  First  Impressions  of  the  Preacher  —  Vividness  of  Description  — 
"  God's  Testimony  against  Sin  "  —  Sins  of  Presumption  —  Where  do 
Texts  come  from?  384 


CHAPTER  XXVIH. 

MEN  I  HAVE  KNOWN  (CONTINUED)  —  SPURGEON  —  AMERICAN 

CLERGYMEN. 

C.  H.  Spurgeon:  Early  History  —  His  First  Sermon  —  "Who  is  this 
Spurgeon?  "  — Park  Chapel  and  Exeter  Hall  —  The  Metropolitan  Tab- 
ernacle—  Publication  of  Fifteen  Hundred  Sermons — The  Man  a 
Miracle  —  Public  Institutions  for  Missions  and  Benevolence  —  The 
Beautiful  Work  of  Mrs.  Spurgeon  —  Pedigree  of  Pulpit  Story  —  Min- 
isters must  be  "  Thick-Skinned  " —  Anecdotes  —  Spurgeon  a  Total- Ab- 
stainer—  Boys'  Orphanage  at  Stockwell  —  Reception  of  Mr.  Spurgeon 
—  The  Little  Consumptive — True  Greatness  —  Sources  of  Power  as  a 
Preacher  —  The  Book  of  Books  —  Comments  on  Proverbs  —  Tale- 
Bearers  and  Dissemblers  —  Mr.  Spurgeon  and  the  Dog — Edward 
Norris  Kirk,  D.D.  — Oratory  and  Elocution  —  Our  Last  Interview  — 
Elocution  sometimes  a  Hindrance  —  George  H.  Gould,  D.D.  —  Rev. 
David  O.  Mears  — William  M.  Taylor,  D.D.  —  Power  with  the  Script- 
ures—  Helpful  Themes  —  Theodore  L.  Cuyler,  D.D.  —  Preacher  and 
Correspondent, 400 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

OLD-TIME    AND     MODERN     PREACHERS —  WORDS   WITH    AND 
WITHOUT   SENSE. 

Sheridan  Knowles  —  Varied  Pulpit  Ministrations  —  Old-time  Discourses 
—  Quaint  old  Books  —  Travesty  on  the  Little  Busy  Bee  —  The  Pla- 
giarized Sermon  —  Sermon  on  the  Slothful  Man  —  "  Awake  Pesaltery- 
tree  and  Harp"  —  "Who  were  the  Patriarchs?"  —  Grandiloquent 
Oratory  —  Exordium  upon  Intemperance  —  "  Wrecked  on  the  Tem- 
pestuous Sea"  — The  baneful  Upas-Tree  —  The  Drunkard's  Career 


XX  CONTENTS. 

on  the  Broad  Road  —  Peroration  —  The  Nobleman's  Speech  and  Ob- 
servations —  Speech  of  an  Agitator  —  "  Bruce  the  King  of  England  " 
—  "  Battles  of  Greasy  and  Potters  "  —  "  Pass  round  the  Hat,"  .  421 


CHAPTER   XXX. 
CHUECH  SERVICES  —  IRREVERENCE,  BUFFOONERY,  AND  CANT. 

Ridiculous  Side  of  Negro  Preaching  —  Absurd  Mistakes  —  The  Planta- 
tion Preacher  —  "  Glad  Tidings  and  Hallelujah  "  —  The  Dirty  Boy  — 
Church  Services  —  Singing  in  Mr.  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle ;  and  in 
Dr.  Parker's  Church  —  The  D.  D.'s  Stratagem  —  The  Scotchman's 
Experience  —  "  Don't  sing,  Sir  "  —  Hymns  of  my  Boyhood  —  Muti- 
lated Hymns  —  Irreverence  of  Hymnology  —  Revivalists'  Buffoonery 
—  The  Name  above  every  Name  —  Christian  Irreverence  —  Pious 
Cant  —  More  Puritanism  needed  —  The  Christian  Ideal  and  its  Oppo- 
site —  Possible  Future  Pulpit  Notices, 431 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 
MY  VIEWS  ON  THE   TEMPERANCE   QUESTION. 

Drunkenness  a  Sin  and  a  Disease  —  Is  moderate  Drinking  a  Sin?  —  My 
First  Intoxication  —  Rum  and  Water  in  a  Temperance  Meeting  — 
"Gentlemanly  Inebriation" — The  Intoxicated  Boy  —  Pathology  of 
Drunkenness  —  Testimony  of  Dr.  Richardson — Destructive  Effects 
of  Alcohol  on  the  Mind  —  Statement  of  Joseph  Cook  —  Legend  of 
the  Triple  Choice  —  The  Sin  is  in  the  Cause,  and  not  the  Effect — 
Statements  of  Wm.  Arnot,  D.D.  —  Two  Ways  of  keeping  a  Nation 
sober  —  Total  Abstinence  as  an  Unfailing  Remedy  —  Prevention 
better  than  Cure  —  The  Giant's  Hand  —  Drunkenness  unnatural  — 
Testimony  of  Distinguished  Physicians  —  Case  of  the  Hon.  E.  C.  Han- 
negan — His  former  Useful  Life  —  The  Terrible  Fall  and  Dissipation 
—The  Murder,  ...  443 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

TEMPERANCE  AND   "THE  GRACE  OF   GOD"  — MY  OWN   EXPE- 
RIENCE  AND   THAT   OF   OTHERS. 

Is  Reform  possible  without  Religion?  —  Grounds  of  Appeal — Total 
Abstinence  does  not  renew  Nature  —  My  First  Pledge  without  "the 
Help  of  God" — The  Memory  of  the  Garret  Bedroom  —  My  Second 


CONTENTS.  XXI 

Pledge  under  the  Grace  of  God  —  Does  the  Grace  of  God  take  away 
the  Appetite?  —  Poison  kills  the  Christian  and  the  Hottentot  —  The 
Grace  of  God  includes  Voluntary  Total  Abstinence  —  Is  the  Drunk- 
ard's Appetite  left?  —  My  Disgust  at  the  Drink  no  Proof  that  Appe- 
tite is  gone  —  Communion  Wine ;  its  Effect  —  Wines  in  Cooking  — 
Religion  removes  the  Desire,  but  not  the  Appetite  —  Self-Deception 
on  this  Point  —  Thrilling  Letter  of  a  Clergyman  —  The  Converted 
Rum-Seller's  Experience  —  The  Fallen  Minister  —  The  only  Safety  is 
in  Total  Abstinence —  "  The  Pledge  and  the  Cross,"  .  .  .  455 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 
MODERATE  DRINKING  AND   TOTAL  ABSTINENCE. 

The  Moderate  Drinker  —  The  Moderate  Drinker  of  Stockholm  —  Gough 
and  his  Moderate-drinking  Friend  —  Dr.  B.  W.  Richardson  on  Mod- 
erate Drinking  —  Alcohol  not  included  in  the  Scheme  of  Life  —  The 
Most  Helpless  Period  passed  without  it  —  The  Four  Stages  of  Life  — 
Voice  of  Science  —  Stimulation  Harmful  to  Health  —  Foods  and  Alco- 
hol—  "The  Alcoholic  Stages"  —  "The  Devil  and  the  Peacock"  — 
Wine  and  Civilization  —  Wine- drinking  Nations  —  Wine  only  Dirty 
Water  —  Total  Abstinence  for  the  Sake  of  Others  —  Abusing  the 
"  Moderate  Drinker  "  —  A  Dinner  without  Wine  —  The  Right,  the 
Wrong,  the  Doubtful  —  A  Touching  Story  —  The  Idolized  Son  —  Wine 
at  New  Year's  Calls  —  Misnamed  Friends, 470 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

TEMPERANCE  AND   THE  BIBLE  —  MY  VIEWS  ON  THE   SCRIPT- 
URE QUESTION  —  INCIDENTS. 

Assistance  demanded  from  all  Sides  —  Charity  —  The  Truth  our  Weapon 

—  Scamp's  Tavern  —  "  '  The  Seven  Last  Plagues '  for  Sale  here  "  — 
Specimen  of  Liquor-Sellers'  Work  —  The  Wine  of  Scripture  and  of 
Commerce  —  Conflicting  Authorities  —  One  of  the  "  Doubtful  Dispu- 
tations "  —  Dr.  Norman  Ker's  Statement  —  The  Hieroglyphical  Argu- 

1  ment  —  Assumed  Biblical  Commands  against  Strong  Drink  —  Dr. 
Samuel  H.  Cox  and  J.  Fenimore  Cooper  upon  Bible  Miracles  —  Absa- 
lom's Hair  —  What  Fish  swallowed  Jonah  —  Good  Men  who  endeavor 
to  sanction  Drinking  —  How  to  answer  these  Men  —  Advice  to  the 
Reformed  Man  —  Let  Arguments  alone  —  The  Outcast's  Conversion 

—  Many  Churches  unsafe  for  the  Reformed  Drunkard,     .         .    481 


XX11  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XXXV. 

WAR  WITH    DRINK  —  TEMPERANCE    ORGANIZATIONS  —  WOM- 
AN'S  WORK  AND   INFLUENCE. 

The  National  Temperance  Society  —  Women's  Christian  Temperance 
Union  —  The  Blue  and  Red  Ribbon  Armies  —  American  Temperance 
Society  —  Growth  of  the  Work  —  Washingtonian  Movement  —  Grow- 
ing Unpopularity  of  Washingtonianism  —  Favorite  Epithets  —  "We 
don't  want  any  Religion  in  the  Movement "  —  Poor  Tom  Marshall  — 
Danger  to  Reform  Clubs  —  Sympathy  demanded  for  the  Lost  —  Give 
the  Reformed  Man  Work  —  The  Temperance  Hall  a  Place  of  Safety 
—  The  Dirt  and  Discomforts  of  some  so-called  Temperance  Hotels  — 
Personal  Experience — The  "Model"  and  "Central"  Coffee  Houses 
of  Philadelphia  —  The  Medical  Question  —  Rum  by  the  Keg  —  Physi- 
cian giving  Poison  for  Health —  Heroism  and  Fanaticism  —  "  Stand  to 
your  Principle," 494 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

STRIKING  EXPERIENCES. 

Compensations  of  Old  Age  —  This  Young  Man  —  The  Old  Warrior  — 
Amusing  Peculiarities  of  Public  Life — The  Liverpool  Barber — "  'Enery, 
sweep  up  this 'Air  "  —  Great  Changes  —  Reforms  —  Improvements  — 
Children  are  Forces  —  An  Important  Question  —  Casket  and  Jewel  — 
Testimonial  presented  —  Boys'  Work  Twenty-five  Years  ago  —  The 
Results  —  Drunkard's  Child  —  "  My  Little  Testament  "  —  Testament 
sold  for  Whiskey  —  "  God  be  merciful!  "  —  "  Evil  Habits  "  —  Custom 
and  Habit  —  No  Man  lost  on  a  Straight  Road  —  A  Good  Resolution  — 
Hugh  Miller 508 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

LAST   GLEANINGS. 

My  First  Visit  to  the  Theatre  —  Booth  and  Hamblin  —  "Apostate,"  and 
"  Review  " — The  Old  Bowery  —  My  Passion  for  the  Stage  —  Interview 
with  a  Manager  —  Comic  Song  at  the  Chatham  —  Persevering  Efforts 
to  be  an  Actor  —  The  Summit  of  Ambition  —  The  Old  Lion  of  Boston 
—  Charles  Thorn  —  Charles  Eaton  —  "  Roll  him  in  and  tap  him  "  — 
Tinsel  and  Sham  —  My  Disenchantment  —  Thanks  that  my  Way  was 
blocked  —  Power  to  overcome  —  Coleridge  —  A  Good  Impulse  — 
"  Art  thee  crazy,  Lad?  "  —  The  First  Sermon  —  Paying  Debts  like  a 
Christian  —  The  Last  Race  —  Retrospection  —  Contrasts  —  Lessons 
learned  —  Encouragements — -Last  Words,  ....  526 


SUNLIGHT  AND  SHADOW. 


CHAPTER  I. 


LOOKING   BACK   OVER  LITE. 


Retrospection   and    Reflection  —  "  The    Chief   End   of    Man "  —  The 
Secret  of  Happiness  —  Experience,  a  Teacher  —  The  Guiding  Hand 

—  Trifling  Incidents  and  Momentous  Consequences  —  My  Father  in 
the  English  Army  —  Famine  and  Despair  —  Lying  down  to  die  — 
Straggling  back  to   Life  —  Looking  for  Work  —  The  Office  Boy  — 
The  Shop  Boy  —  Power  of  Circumstances  in  shaping  Character  — 
Man,  Arbiter  of  his  own  Fortune  —  Knotty  Problems  —  Dr.  Wm.  M. 
Taylor's  Advice  —  Unbelief  no  Refuge  —  Boast  of  Napoleon  —  Cir- 
cumstances not  despotic  —  Influence  of  Early  Training  —  My  "First 
Shop  "  —  Downward  Road  easy  —  Turn  in  the  Tide  —  "  Man's  Ex- 
tremity, God's  Opportunity  "  —  Seven  Years'  Night — "  Morning  Light " 

—  The  Day  —  Striving  upwards  —  Aim  of  this  Volume,     .    Page  23 


I  HEN"  the  noon  of  life  is  passed,  and 
the  shadows  begin  to  lengthen,  as 
the  bustle  and  worry  and  excite- 
ment are  less  active,  we  look  back 
and  ask  the  question,  "Have  we 
lived  the  threescore  years  ? "  It 
is  worth  while  to  remember,  as 
years  increase,  that  our  lives  are  not 
measured  by  the  years  we  have  existed, 
but  by  the  years  we  have  lived.  The  time  that  has 
been  misapplied,  devoted  to  mere  self-indulgence,  to 
the  gratification  of  unworthy  appetites,  is  lost,  and 

23 


24  PATCHWORK. 

time  lost  is  not  lived;  so  that  the  question  comes, 
How  much  have  I  lived?  not,  How  many  years  have 
I  existed?  Fuller  says,  "He  lives  long  that  lives 
well."  Seneca  says,  "  To  live  well  is  a  greater  benefit 
than  life  itself." 

There  is  a  right  ring  in  the  good  old  question  and 
answer  in  the  Catechism  — "  What  is  the  chief  end 
of  man?  To  glorify  God  and  to  enjoy  Him  forever." 
If  we  could  comprehend  at  our  starting-point  more 
fully  all  that  is  involved  in  "  glorifying  God,"  that  it 
is  to  be  in  entire  harmony  not  only  with  eternal  wis- 
dom and  beneficent  law,  but  especially  with  their 
Source  and  Author,  surely  our  lives  might  be  filled 
to  the  brim  with  happy  usefulness,  and  move  on  with 
no  more  friction  or  jar  than  do  the  processions  of  the 
seasons. 

With  the  conviction  that  often  the  experience  of 
years  may  be  helpful  to  the  young,  and  hoping  that 
the  reflections  and  recollections  of  a  life  that  has  been 
for  many  years  so  fully  among  men  may  be  profitable 
to  those  who  have  all  of  life  before  them,  I  venture 
to  gather  the  incidents  and  experiences  of  these  years, 
and,  without  apology,  present  them  to  those  who  may 
choose  to  accept  them.  A  writer  has  said,  "  There 
are  few  minds  but  might  furnish  some  instruction  and 
entertainment  out  of  their  scraps,  their  odds  and  ends 
of  thought.  They  who  cannot  weave  a  uniform  web 
may  at  least  produce  a  piece  of  patchwork  which  may 
be  useful,  and  not  without  a  charm  of  its  own."  So 
I  venture  on  my  patchwork  by  jotting  down  obser- 
vations, thoughts,  and  conclusions,  gathered  from 
wayside  opportunities  and  sources  in  the  course  of 
a  long  experience. 

Shakspeare  asserts :  "  There  is  a  divinity  that  shapes 


MY  FATHER'S  SEVERE  EXPERIENCE.  25 

our  ends,  rough-hew  them  as  we  will."  Canon  Farrar 
says :  "  The  overruling  providence  of  God  is  so  clearly 
marked  in  the  progress  of  human  events  that  the 
Christian  hardly  needs  any  further  proof  that  there 
is  a  hand  that  guides."  More  incisive  yet  are  the 
wisest  man's  words :  "A  man's  heart  deviseth  his  way, 
but  the  Lord  directeth  his  steps."  All  our  personal 
experiences  reveal  to  us  the  fact  of  an  overruling 
Providence;  that  we  are  not  the  creatures  of  chance. 
A  very  trifling  incident  may  change  the  whole  course 
of  our  lives. 

During  a  retreat  of  the  English  army,  when  closely 
pursued  by  Marshal  Soult,  about  the  year  1809,  my 
father,  then  about  thirty  years  of  age,  was  a  soldier 
in  the  Fifty-second  Light  Infantry.  He  had  been 
slightly  wounded  in  the  chest,  and  though  his  wound 
was  not  considered  fatal,  it  was  painful  and  irritating. 
The  army  had  suffered  fearfully  from  exposure,  fam- 
ine, and  the  heavy  fatigues  of  an  active  campaign.  I 
well  remember  my  father  saying  to  me,  w  John,  you 
will  never  know  what  hunger  is  till  you  feel  the  two 
sides  of  your  stomach  grinding  together."  In  that 
campaign,  men  mad  with  hunger  fought  like  wolves 
over  the  half-decayed  hoof  of  a  bullock;  and  often 
when  one  of  these  poor  animals,  overcome  with  weak- 
ness and  starvation,  was  staggering  as  if  about  to 
fall,  the  ready  knife  was  applied  to  the  throat,  and 
the  fainting  soldiers,  eagerly  catching  the  blood  in 
their  hands,  and  hardly  waiting  for  it  to  congeal,  made 
it  take  the  place  of  food.  In  this  retreat,  the  Fifty- 
second  Regiment  became  —  to  use  the  American  term 
—  demoralized ;  and  while  they  staggered  on,  my 
father  threw  himself  out  of  the  ranks,  under  the 
shadow  of  a  large  rock,  to  die :  he  could  go  no 


26  FIRST   THOUGHT   OF   AMERICA. 

farther.  Lying  there,  he  took  from  his  inner  pocket  a 
hymn-book  (which  I  have  to-day,  with  all  the  marks 
of  its  seventy  years  upon  it) ,  and  began  to  read  the 
hymn  in  which  is  the  verse  — 

"  When  in  the  solemn  hour  of  death 

I  own  Thy  just  decree, 
Be  this  the  prayer  of  my  last  breath : 
O  Lord,  remember  me." 

He  must  die  —  it  seemed  inevitable  —  though  far  from 
home,  in  a  strange  land.  He  was  a  Christian,  and 
endeavored  to  prepare  himself  for  the  change.  Sud- 
denly a  large  bird  of  prey,  with  a  red  neck  growing 
out  of  a  ruffle  of  feathers,  came  swooping  along, 
almost  brushing  my  father's  body  with  its  wings; 
then  circling  up,  he  alighted  on  the  point  of  rock, 
and  turned  his  blood-red  eye  on  his  intended  victim. 

As  my  father  saw  that  horrible  thing  watching,  and 
waiting  to  tear  him  in  pieces  even  before  life  was  ex- 
tinct, it  so  filled  him  with  horror  and  disgust  that  he 
cried,  "  I  cannot  endure  this :  it  is  too  terrible.  When 
I  am  unable  to  drive  that  fearful  thing  away,  it  will 
be  tearing  my  flesh.  I  cannot  endure  it!"  He  rose 
to  his  feet  and  fell,  then  crawled  and  struggled 
away,  till  at  length  he  crept  into  a  poor  hut,  found 
safety,  and  soon  after  joined  his  regiment.  Though 
he  was  very,  very  ill  after  that  frightful  episode,  he 
recovered,  and  died  in  1871,  at  the  remarkable  age  of 
ninety-four  years. 

I  enjoy  tracing  some  of  these  experiences  in  my 
own  life.  When  a  boy  doing  errands  for  a  family 
about  to  emigrate  to  America,  the  lady,  who  was  in  a 
very  good  humor,  said,  "John,  how  would  you  like  to 
go  to  America  with  us?"  It  was  said  jestingly,  yet 


POSSESSION   OF  A  WILL.  27 

that  playful  word  grew  into  the  decision  that  made 
me  an  American  citizen. 

In  1832  or  1833,  two  boys  sought  employment  at 
the  same  establishment,  in  the  same  week.  One  was 
duly  engaged  as  errand-boy  in  the  office,  the  other 
as  errand-boy  in  the  bookbindery.  The  first  was 
thrown  into  good  society,  among  refined,  Christian 
people,  and  brought  under  restraining  influences.  The 
other  was  surrounded  by  an  entirely  different  atmos- 
phere—  nothing  elevating,  very  little  that  was  "pure, 
lovely,  or  of  good  report."  The  office-boy,  encouraged 
by  good  advisers,  grew  in  the  right  direction,  obtained 
an  education,  became  a  minister,  a  professor  in  a  col- 
lege, a  celebrated  Greek  scholar,  and  died  leaving 
behind  him  a  splendid  reputation.  The  shop-boy, 
with  no  restraining  influences,  naturally  impulsive 
and  yielding,  went  sadly  astray,  until  he  became  as 
near  an  outcast  as  a  young  man  could  well  become, 
with  only  a  limited  education,  while  all  the  natural 
powers  God  had  given  him  were  running  to  waste. 
For  years  he  groped  in  darkness  and  almost  despair. 
One  of  these  became  the  Rev.  Dr.  McClintockj  the 
other  is  writing  these  lines  to-day. 

It  is  true,  as  the  prophet  records  —  and  we  would 
not  have  it  otherwise  —  that  "  the  way  of  man  is  not 
in  himself; "  yet  it  is  undoubtedly  a  fact  that  a  man  is 
in  a  great  degree  the  arbiter  of  his  own  fortune.  I 
know  I  have  a  will  to  do,  or  not  to  do.  Locke  says, 
"  We  are  born  with  powers  and  faculties  capable  of 
almost  anything,  but  it  is  the  exercise  of  these  powers 
and  faculties  that  gives  us  ability  and  skill  in  any- 
thing." "We  are  conscious  of  possessing  a  will  that 
can  consent  or  refuse  to  exercise  these  faculties. 

I  know  that  here  we  trench  on  a  great  mystery, 


28  "l  MAKE    CIRCUMSTANCES." 

God's  plan  and  man's  will  —  a  mystery  we  have  nei- 
ther skill  nor  ability  to  unravel.  I  remember  once, 
when  confronting  some  of  these  knotty  problems,  — 
such  as  the  origin  of  evil,  and  the  eternit}7'  of  sin,  — 
I  went  to  my  dear  friend  Dr.  Wm.  M.  Taylor,  of  ~New 
York,  and  asked  him  to  give  me  some  light.  Putting 
his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  he  said,  "  John,  lay  these 
things  on  the  shelf.  We  shall  see  light  by  and  by, 
when  He  shall  reveal  to  us  the  deep  things  of  His 
wisdom."  So  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  my 
great  aim  must  be  to  bring  my  will  into  submission 
to  His,  in  perfect  harmony;  believing  that  all  I  do  not 
know  now  I  shall  know  in  His  right  time,  who  knows 
the  end  from  the  beginning.  I  therefore  seek  to*  put 
away  all  that  childish  rubbish  that  hedges  up  a  belief 
in  what  I  cannot  understand ;  inasmuch  as  the  insolu- 
ble perplexities  of  unbelief  are  far  greater  than  any 
that  hover  about  faith  and  trust  in  God. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte,  when  intoxicated  with  suc- 
cess and  at  the  height  of  his  power,  is  reported  to 
have  said,  "  I  make  circumstances."  Let  Moscow, 
Elba,  Waterloo,  and  St.  Helena,  that  rocky  isle  where 
he  was  caged  until  he  fretted  his  life  away,  testify  to 
his  utter  helplessness  in  his  humiliating  downfall. 

We  cannot  create  circumstances,  but  we  can  make 
the  best  of  them  when  they  come.  Their  power  is 
not  despotic,  and,  by  God's  help  and  our  own  en- 
deavor, we  may  make  them  our  servants.  How  much 
of  the  success  or  failure  in  life  depends  on  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  are  able  to  deal  with  the  circum- 
stances of  our  early  life!  Cowper  has  written  that 
"  The  color  of  our  whole  life  is  generally  such  as  the 
first  three  or  four  years  in  which  we  are  our  own  mas- 
ter, make  it."  The  results  of  early  training,  reading, 


MIRACLE   OF   MOEXING.  29 

study,  self-control  or  indulgence,  are  rarely  overcome. 
In  very  early  life,  Little's  poems  were  Lord  Byron's 
favorite  study.  "  Heigho !  "  he  exclaimed  in  a  letter 
dated  1820,  "  I  believe  all  the  mischief  I  have  ever 
done  or  sung,  has  been  owing  to  that  confounded 
book."  As  I  look  back  to  the  early  years  of  my  life, 
when  at  the  age  of  fourteen  I  was  my  own  master,  — 
so  far  as  the  control  of  my  leisure  was  involved,  — 
I  attribute  much  of  the  influence  leading  me  in  the 
wrong  direction  to  the  surroundings  of  that  first  shop 
into  which  I  entered.  Mark,  I  do  not  wish  to  excuse 
or  palliate  any  wrong  into  which  I  drifted,  but  simply 
to  state  the  fact  that  a  boy,  coming  fresh  from  the 
country  and  the  restraints  of  home,  untainted,  igno- 
rant of  the  world,  and  "  green,"  I  was  brought  into 
daily  companionship  with  men  acquainted  with,  and 
many  of  them  adepts  in  the  vices  of  a  large  city. 
There  I  saw  the  mystery  of  wickedness;  there  I 
learned  to  like  the  drink;  there  I  became  soiled; 
there  I  took  the  wrong  direction,  —  and  thus  seeds 
were  sown  that  brought  a  bitter  fruit  and  a  wretched 
harvesting.  I  will  not  linger  on  this  page,  only  to  say 
that  I  began  the  drifting  into  darkness,  hopelessness, 
and  xthe  sunless  gloom  of  moral  night;  but  "there 
is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men  which,  taken  at  the 
flood,  leads  on  to  fortune,"  and  a  kind  Providence 
was  bringing  me  unconsciously  to  it.  "  Man's  extrem- 
ity is  God's  opportunity ; "  and  in  the  darkest  hour  of 
my  life,  —  no  light,  no  sun,  no  stars,  not  a  gleam  of 
hope,  no  expectation  of  a  change,  only  a  dreary  and 
restless  waiting  for  the  end,  —  the  miracle  of  morn- 
ing came  to  me,  beginning  with  the  dawn. 

When  the  night  has  reached  its  limit,  and  its  visions 
are  broken,  how  great  is  the  change  made  by  the  first 


30  SUNLIGHT   ON   THE   HILLS. 

line  of  morning  light !  Most  things  are  more  clearly 
defined  by  the  light;  but  in  the  experience  of  many 
the  welcome  and  unwelcome  visitations  of  night  have 
only  vanishing  outlines,  and  lose  shape  as  morning 
grows  into  day. 

Thirty-eight  years  ago  ushered  in  the  dawn  of 
such  a  morning  to  me.  The  night  had  been  one 
of  seven  years'  length,  and  filled  with  murky  condi- 
tions; but  though  clouds  were  not  absent  from  my 
horizon,  the  break  of  a  new  day  had  certainly  come, 
and  a  total  change  in  the  direction  of  my  life's  jour- 
ney must  be  taken.  Henceforth,  though  the  path 
promised  to  be  steep,  I  resolved  to  reach  higher 
levels,  and  get  away  from  the  poisoned  air  and 
treacherous  ooze  of  that  deep  morass  into  which  the 
seven  years'  night  had  led  me.  After  this,  to  feel  the 
ground  firm  under  foot;  to  see  the  sunlight  touching 
the  summits  of  the  hills  of  life;  to  have  conscious- 
ness of  growing  purpose  to  reach  these  safe  dis- 
tances, in  the  strength  of  the  Mighty  Hand  reached 
down  to  help,  —  is  best  comparable  to  the  opening 
morning  of  a  new  day. 

Thus  for  all  these  years,  though  I  have  seen  storms 
and  sometimes  cloudy  skies,  in  difficulty  and  danger, 
in  changes  various  and  experiences  manifold,  it  has 
never  been  dark:  in  the  gloomiest  hour  there  has 
been  a  consciousness  of  sunlight  beyond  the  cloud. 
Though  sorely  tried,  I  have  never  despaired.  In 
weakness  I  have  experienced  the  truth  that  "  He 
giveth  strength  to  the  feeble ; "  and  I  have  the  con- 
sciousness of  having  been  enabled  to  help  some  to 
a  better  life,  to  encourage  some  desponding  hearts, 
and  to  lift  up  some  that  were  sinking.  For  this  I 
am  most  devoutly  thankful,  and  put  forth  these  expe- 


DESIRE   TO   HELP   OTHERS.  31 

riences,  observations,  and  opinions,  hoping  that  the 
cause  of  truth  and  right  may  thereby  be  advanced. 

I  pretend  to  no  literary  ability,  and  am  aware  that 
I  am  more  at  home  on  the  platform  than  with  the 
pen.  Thus  I  pay  little  regard  to  the  "  unities,"  or  the 
chronology.  My  book  will  be  somewhat  desultory, 
one  thing  leading  on  to  another.  My  aim  is  to  inter- 
est, perhaps  amuse,  and,  above  all,  to  help. 


CHAPTER  H. 

OUK  WELCOME   TO   ENGLAND. —  OLD   AND   NEW 
FEIENDS. 

Revisiting  England  —  The  Welcome  —  Old  Friends  missed  —  Kindness 
of  Dean  Stanley — "Sermons  in  Stones"  —  Coronation  Scenes  — 
Downing  Street  —  First  Address  in  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  —  An 
Overpowering  Reception  —  Warm  Heart  and  Open  Purse  —  Early 
Dinners  and  Success  —  Mercantile  Life  —  The  Flowing  Bowl  in 
Business — " Brackley-Street  Mission" — Costermongers'  Homes  — 
War  Nurses  — "The  Gift  of  Giving "  — Children  taking  the  Pledge 
— Total  Abstinence  pays — Value  of  Half  a  Sovereign  —  "A  Jolly 
Good  Fellow"  —  Rebuking  Evil  in  High  Places  —  "Another  Nail  in 
my  Coffin"  —  England's  Lord  High  Chancellor  —  His  Official  Dig- 
nity —  Amazing  Progress  —  The  Great  Supper  —  Temperance  in 
English  Parlors  —  "  Persistence  a  Cardinal  Virtue,"  .  .  .32 

>EELING  the  necessity  of  rest,  after 
thirty-six  years  of  almost  unbroken  hard 
work,  I  determined  to  revisit  England, 
see  my  old  and  valued  friends,  accept 
the  numerous  offers  of  hospitality,  and 
spend  perhaps  two  years  in  Europe.  In 
answer  to  repeated  and  urgent  requests,  I 
proposed  giving  thirty  lectures  while  in 
England,  and  to  pass  some  months  on  the 
Continent.  So  on  the  10th  of  July,  1878,  Mrs.  Gough 
and  myself  sailed  from  New  York  for  Liverpool,  two 
of  our  nieces  accompanying  us. 

On  our  landing,  we  were  met  by  a  committee  of 
the  "  National  Temperance  League,"  of  the  "  United 
Kingdom  Band  of  Hope  Union,"  of  the  "  Good  Tem- 

32 


PLEASANT   RECEPTION.  33 

plars,"  who  presented  me  with  a  beautifully  engrossed 
address  of  welcome;  and  a  deputation  from  the  "Liv- 
erpool Temperance  Union,"  and  from  the  "  Liverpool 
Popular  Central  Association."  My  dear,  good  friend 
William  Logan,  who  went  home  to  heaven  on  the  last 
day  I  spent  in  Glasgow,  came  from  Scotland  to  greet 
us,  and  John  M.  Cook,  Esq.,  rendered  us  valuable 
assistance. 

It  had  been  pleasantly  arranged  that  there  should 
be  a  social  gathering  of  the  friends  to  meet  me,  before 
commencing  my  public  work.  By  the  kind  permis- 
sion of  the  Dean  and  Chapter,  a  garden  party  was 
given  in  the  College  Gardens  of  Westminster  Abbey. 
It  was  a  peculiarly  gratifying  occasion,  especially  con- 
sidering the  high  social  position  of  those  who  gave 
me  their  greeting.  The  American  minister,  Hon.  Mr. 
Welch,  was  present;  also  several  dignitaries  of  the 
Church,  some  members  of  Parliament,  and  a  splendid 
representation  from  the  different  temperance  organ- 
izations. 

Tea  and  coffee  were  served  in  a  marquee,  and  dur- 
ing refreshments  the  band  of  the  Royal  Greenwich 
Hospital  performed  a  selection  of  music.  It  was  a 
most  enjoyable  affair.  Many  of  our  dear  old  friends, 
and  many  new  ones,  were  there;  yet  we  missed  sev- 
eral familiar  faces  that  our  hearts  yearned  again  to 
greet.  But  I  will  not  dwell  on  this  very  pleasant 
episode,  and  only  say  that  after  speeches  by  Samuel 
Bowly,  Esq.,  his  Excellency  the  American  minister, 
Canon  Duckworth,  Dr.  Richardson,  Canon  Ellison, 
Samuel  Morley,  Esq.,  M.P.,  Dean  Stanley  spoke  a  few 
words  of  welcome,  and  offered  to  conduct  us  through 
the  abbey,  which  he  did  to  our  great  delight.  That 
beautiful  garden,  the  smooth  lawn,  the  surroundings — 
3 


34  WESTMINSTER   ABBEY. 

• 

on  one  side  the  gray  towers  of  the  venerable  abbey, 
and  on  the  other  the  clock-tower  and  Victoria  tower 
of  the  Parliament  houses  —  the  whole  scene,  so 
charming,  will  never  fade  from  my  memory. 

Any  attempt  to  describe  Westminster  Abbey  wonld 
be  presumptuous,  following  the  many  who  have  so 
eloquently  succeeded.  If  it  is  true  that  there  are 
"  sermons  in  stones,"  —  and  that  there  are,  we  have  the 
authority  of  Shakespeare,  —  where  shall  we  go  for  a 
better  sermon  than  to  Westminster  Abbey?  standing, 
as  it  does,  gray  and  hoary  and  majestic,  rich  with  the 
memories  of  the  past,  and  consecrated  with  the  bones 
and  ashes  and  reputations  of  the  great!  All  that 
Britain  contained  or  contains  of  the  illustrious  or 
good,  of  genius  or  culture,  have  trodden  its  aisles,  have 
come  hither  to  worship,  to  admire,  to  mourn,  or,  it 
may  be,  after  life's  fitful  fever,  to  sleep.  Here  maj- 
esty, amidst  pomp  and  splendor,  has  assumed  the 
crown,  and,  amidst  equal  pomp  and  circumstance,  has 
laid  it  down;  here  the  nation  has  mourned  the  bard 
whose  verse  is  as  immortal  as  her  tongue ;  and  here 
she  has  wept  over  her  greatest  statesmen — dead. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  the  abbey  we  are  in  the 
centre  of  English  civilization,  and  near  the  brain  of 
government  —  that  Downing  Street  from  which  Eng- 
land, Scotland,  Ireland,  ay,  and  lands  far  remote, 
peopled  by  alien  races,  professing  alien  creeds,  speak- 
ing alien  tongues,  are  ruled.  Royalty  resides  in  close 
proximity;  and  in  ermined  gown  and  solemn  wig  and 
official  pomp  the  proud  peers  of  Britain  assemble  to 
legislate,  not  a  stone's  throw  from  this  sacred  shrine. 

It  was  arranged  to  commence  my  public  work  at 
the  Metropolitan  Tabernacle  (Rev.  Mr.  Spurgeon's) 
on  Tuesday,  September  22d.  After  spending  a  week 


FIRST   LECTURE.  35 

with  our  dear  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Brown, 
of  Hough  ton,  Hunts,  we  started  for  the  Continent; 
but  after  four  weeks  of  almost  incessant  wet  weather, 
we  returned  to  London,  and  took  -lodgings  at  185 
Piccadilly,  resting  till  the  important  evening  should 
arrive.  What  an  audience,  and  what  a  greeting!  It 
was  overpowering.  The  papers  stated  that  seven 
thousand  were  present.  It  was  a  happy  beginning  of 
our  allotted  work.  The  chairman  on  that  occasion 
was  Sir  Charles  Reed,  honored  as  chairman  of  the 
London  School  Board,  formerly  M.P.  for  the  borough 
of  Hackney,*  a  leading  man  in  every  good  word  and 
work.  He  is  the  second  son  of  the  celebrated  philan- 
thropist the  late  Dr.  Andrew  Reed,  who  was  sent  as 
a  deputation  to  America  by  the  English  Congrega- 
tionalists  as  far  back  as  1833.  Sir  Charles  is  a 
typefounder  in  Aldersgate  Street,  and  was  intimately 
associated  with  our  illustrious  Peabody,  of  whose 
estate  he  was  the  executor.  He  is  also  one  of  the 
leading  men  in  connection  with  the  Sunday  School 
Union.  He  is  a  prompt  man  of  business,  always 
managing  to  come  at  the  right  time,  say  and  do  the 
right  thing,  and  then  be  off  to  another  meeting  or 
committee  elsewhere.  He  is  a  brother-in-law  of  Hon. 
Edward  Baines,  the  proprietor  of  that  influential  jour- 
nal the  "Leeds  Mercury."  Sir  Charles  has  been  a 
successful  man  through  life,  and  for  years  has  been 
more  or  less  a  public  man,  especially  in  connection 
with  the  city  of  London ;  and  I  believe  he  might  have 
been  Lord  Mayor  had  his  ambition  led  him  in  that 
direction,  but  as  he  refrained  from  coming  forward  as 
an  alderman,  of  course  he  cannot  rise  to  that  dignity. 
His  hair  is  white,  his  form  erect,  and  there  is  a  hearty 

*  Elected  in  1880  as  a  member  for  St.  Ives. 


36  A  MODEL   BUSINESS  MAN. 

glow  on  his  benevolent  face,  which  shows  that  his 
work  agrees  with  him.  He  has  an  easy  and  natural 
way  of  speaking.  What  he  says  seems  to  come  to 
him  naturally  and  with  little  effort.  He  is  very  pop- 
ular, and  is  generally  hailed  on  his  public  appearances 
with  hearty  applause. 

The  chairmen  of  my  other  meetings  have  impressed 
upon  me  the  conviction  that  never  before  has  the 
Temperance  cause  been  more  thoroughly  allied  to  the 
highest  culture.  Yividly  do  I  recall  Samuel  Morley, 
M.P.  for  the  city  of  Bristol,  one  of  those  merchant- 
princes  who  are  the  glory  and  pride  of  London,  and 
of  England.  He  is  a  tall,  well-made  man,  with  rather 
a  serious,  but  extremely  intelligent  and  attractive 
face,  with  a  warm  heart  and  a  smile  for  every  ear- 
nest worker  in  the  cause  of  humanity.  Nor  is  this 
all.  His  purse  is  as  big  as  his  heart,  and  he  rarely 
refuses  a  handsome  donation  in  every  case  of  real 
distress.  To  him  many  have  been  indebted  for  the 
building  of  a  chapel,  Wesleyan,  Baptist  or  Congre- 
gationalist,  and  the  erection  of  mission  halls  or  coffee 
palaces;  to  the  establishment  of  school  and  college, 
or  to  special  efforts  made  by  the  Bible  and  tract 
societies,  and  the  "  Sunday  School  Union."  I  think 
he  is  almost  seventy  years  old,  and  he  seems  to  have 
an  immense  power  of  work  in  him  yet,  looking  much 
younger  than  his  years.  I  am  told  that  of  his  in- 
come, which  is  set  down  at  £70,000  a  year,  half  of 
it  is  spent  in  charity.  In  politics  he  is  one  of  the 
liberal  leaders  in  the  city.  He  is  a  dissenter,  and  a 
Congregationalist.  As  a  man  of  business  he  has  few 
equals.  His  factory  is  at  Nottingham;  his  warehouse 
in  Wood  Street,  Cheapside ;  and  he  has  a  superb  resi- 
dence some  way  from  town,  hi  one  of  the  most  beau- 


SAMUEL   MORLEY.  37 

tiful  districts  of  the  county  of  Kent.  He  does  not 
make  long  speeches,  but  what  he  says  is  always  to 
the  point,  and  comes  from  the  heart. 

In  spite  of  his  great  wealth  he  always  dines  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  as  his  young  men,  of  whom  there 
are  some  seven  or  eight  hundred,  dine  at  that  time. 
Such  a  habit  gives  him  ample  opportunity  to  devote 
his  evenings  to  useful,  philanthropic,  and  religious 
work.  This  dinner-hour  was  recommended  to  him, 
when  quite  a  young  man,  by  his  uncle,  who  said  to 
him,  "  l^ow,  Samuel,  never  give  in  to  the  fashion  of 
late  dinners;  if  you  do,  you  will  never  be  able  to  do 
any  good  in  the  world."  And  Mr.  Morley  has  ever 
since  avoided  late  dinners,  and  thus  devotes  the  time 
he  has  gained  to  the  promotion  of  the  welfare  of  his 
fellow-man  and  to  the  glory  of  God.  A  more  sincere 
Christian  man  I  know  not. 

In  the  city  he  is  an  earnest  supporter  of  the  Tem- 
perance movement.  He  was  also  one  of  the  first 
members  of  the  London  School  Board.  There  is  a 
great  deal  of  drinking  in  London  mercantile  life. 
The  great  houses  have  their  buyers,  and  these  buy- 
ers are  exposed  to  great  temptations.  The  agents  of 
the  manufacturers  invite  them  to  heavy  lunches,  or 
grand  dinners,  where  the  wine  circulates  freely,  and 
business  is  transacted  over  the  flowing  bowl.  Against 
this  custom  Mr.  Morley  ever  utters  a  conscientious 
protest,  and  he  will  not  sanction  it  in  any  way,  as  he 
has  seen  so  much  of  the  mischief,  and  the  mental, 
bodily  and  spiritual  ruin  it  creates.  He  is  president 
of  the  "  Band  of  Hope  Union,"  and  often  stands  side 
by  side  with  the  noble  Earl  of  Shaftesbury  in  the 
cause  of  ragged  schools. 

One  sees  Mr.  Morley  driving  about  in  a  fine  mail 


38  ROAST  BEEF    ANT)   PLUM  PUDDING. 

phaeton,  as  if  he  were  some  thirty  or  forty  years 
younger  than  he  really  is.  I  can  quite  understand 
his  desire  to  take  things  a  little  easier,  but  it  seems 
that  people  will  not  let  him;  for  instance,  he  wishes 
to  retire  from  Parliament,  but  the  Bristol  people  in- 
sist on  retaining  him  as  their  M.P. 

In  one  thing  he  is  especially  interested,  and  that  is 
in  the  Brackley  Street  Mission.  You  must  know  that 
though  they  are  pulling  down  all  the  old  houses,  and 
all  the  unhealthy,  fever-breeding  tenements  in  London, 
as  fast  as  they  can,  many  of  them  are  still  left.  One 
of  these  is  in  Brackley  Street,  a  very  low  part  of  the 
city,  where  a  great  number  of  the  costermongers  live, 
not  very  far  from  the  grand  warehouses  in  Cheapside 
and  Gresham  Street.  In  this  street  Mr.  Morley's 
employes  have  established  a  mission  church,  where  a 
city  missionary  preaches  every  Sunday.  A  flourishing 
Sunday  school  has  also  been  established,  where  all  the 
agencies  connected  with  such  places  are  worked  by 
Mr.  Morley's  young  men.  At  Christmas  time  a  grand 
dinner  of  roast-beef  and  plum-pudding  is  provided  for 
the  poor  people  connected  with  the  mission  hall,  and 
presents  are  given  to  the  children;  and  Mr.  Morley 
is  sure  to  be  present  on  such  occasions. 

There  is  another  institution  in  the  suburbs  of  Lon- 
don, almost  entirely  supported  by  Mr.  Morley  and  his 
brother,  viz.,  the  Protestant  Deaconess'  Institute,  at 
Tottenham,  just  opposite  the  spot  where  dear  old 
Isaac  Walton,  the  angler  —  as  he  tells  us  in  his  book, 
—  loved  to  refresh  himself  when  he  went  fishing  in 
the  direction  of  the  river  Lea.  There  Dr.  Losereau, 
a  medical  man,  has  found  a  nice  old-fashioned  house, 
which  he  has  converted  into  a  hospital,  and  in  which 
he  appoints  a  certain  number  of  respectable,  religious 


THE   GIFT   OF   GIVING.  39 

young  women  of  the  middle  class,  whom  he  trains  to 
nurse  the  sick,  and  at  the  same  time  to  minister  to 
the  mind  diseased  and  to  solace  and  strengthen  it 
with  the  consolations  religion  imparts.  In  all  parts 
of  the  country  these  nurses  have  been  employed. 
They  have  also  been  useful  in  the  East,  and  in  the 
war  between  France  and  Germany;  and  whatever 
power  they  have  been  for  good  has  been  chiefly  due 
to  the  constant  and  liberal  support  of  such  a  man  as 
Mr.  Morley.  Yet  with  all  this,  Mr.  Morley  is  a  per- 
fectly unostentatious  man. 

Often  if  A  gives  a  hundred  pounds  to  some  charity, 
B  gives  another  to  prove  himself  as  good  a  man  as 
A..  In  a  fashionable  comedy,  a  city  merchant  is  rep- 
resented as  telling  his  private  secretary  to  send  so 
many  hundred  pounds  to  all  the  charities  which  pub- 
lished the  names  of  the  donors,  and  to  put  it  down 
under  the  head  of  advertisements.  Mr.  Morley  is 
not  a  man  of  that  class.  Nor  is  he  like  a  wealthy 
brother  of  whom  I  heard  the  other  day.  He  be- 
longed, it  seems,  to  the  Baptist  denomination;  and, 
upon  an  intimation  to  the  church  of  his  desire  to  be 
set  apart  for  ministerial  training,  a  deputation  was 
appointed  to  confer  with  him  on  the  subject.  After 
due  and  anxious  deliberation,  they  returned  with  their 
report.  It  was  to  the  effect  that  the  young  man  in 
question  had  one  great  talent  which  might  be  usefully 
employed  for  the  good  of  the  community,  for  the  ser- 
vice of  the  church,  and  for  the  honor  of  God;  and 
that  was  the  gift  of  giving.  Mr.  Morley  has  that 
talent  in  perfection,  and  he  makes  a  noble  use  of  it; 
but  he  has  other  and  greater  and  better  gifts  as  well. 

Another  chairman  was  Canon  Farrar,  the  author  of 
the  most  successful  "Life  of  Christ"  that  has  appeared 


40  KEY.   CANON  FARRAR. 

in  our  day.  He  is  the  son  of  a  clergyman,  and  with 
his  delicately  chiselled  face  and  fair  complexion,  looks 
every  inch  a  gentleman.  Originally  he  devoted  more 
time  to  teaching  than  to  preaching.  He  was  one  of 
the  masters  at  that  beautiful  Harrow  school,  where 
Lord  Byron  and  Sir  Robert  Peel  were  trained.  Mr. 
Farrar  was  appointed  head  master;  he  is  now,  how- 
ever, one  of  the  canons  of  Westminster,  and  one  of 
the  most  attractive  and  fascinating  orators  in  the 
English  Church.  He  has  a  calm  and  gentle,  and  yet 
very  telling  way  of  speaking,  and  when  he  preaches 
at  Westminster,  the  grand  old  abbey  is  crowded  in 
every  part.  He  is  quite  in  the  prime  of  life  —  indeed 
he  looks  very  young,  considering  the  work  he  has 
done  and  the  reputation  he  has  gained.  His  books 
have  a  great  sale,  and  so  have  his  single  sermons. 
He  has  also  written  some  good  stories  for  boys. 

He  presided  twice  in  Exeter  Hall  at  my  lectures. 
I  heard  him  speak  only  for  a  few  minutes,  but  there 
was  a  magnetism  about  him  making  us  long  to  hear 
more.  His  utterances  for  temperance  are  not  uncer- 
tain: he  is  thoroughly  in  earnest,  and  speaks  power- 
fully and  very  eloquently.  He  has  spoken  in  the 
Sheldonian  Theatre,  Oxford;  and  at  Cambridge, 
Edinburgh,  Glasgow,  and  Aberdeen  universities,  and 
is  doing  a  very  important  work.  He  told  me  that  all 
his  children  had  signed  the  total-abstinence  pledge. 
He  is  a  most  valuable  acquisition  to  the  temperance 
cause  in  England,  and  his  influence  through  his  pub- 
lished speeches  is  extensively  acknowledged  in  this 
country. 

Another  chairman  was  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Exeter, 
a  great  contrast  to  his  predecessor,  the  renowned 
Tory,  Bishop  Philpots.  Dr.  Temple  was  at  one  time 


LORD   BISHOP   OF   EXETER.  41 

master  of  Rugby  Grammar  School,  the  successor  of 
Dr.  Arnold,  whose  life  was  admirably  written  by  Dean 
Stanley  while  a  professor  in  Oxford,  and  who  raised 
the  reputation  of  that  school  to  the  very  pinnacle,  — 
Rugby  made  so  familiar  to  us  by  Thomas  Hughes  in 
his  "  Tom  Brown's  Schooldays."  Bishop  Temple 
reminds  you  not  a  little  of  Dr.  Cummings,  of  the 
Scotch  church,  in  his  best  days.  He  is  dark  in  com- 
plexion and  hair;  he  has  an  ecclesiastic,  scholastic, 
and  high-bred  appearance.  There  was  what  I  have 
heard  called  a  "  tremendous  row,"  when  he  was  made 
Bishop  of  Exeter,  as  he  was  one  of  the  seven  who 
wrote  the  "  Essays,"  which  some  years  ago  made  so 
much  talk,  and  were  the  theme  of  so  much  discussion 
in  England,  on  the  Continent,  and  in  America.  The 
doctor  has  outlived  the  odium  tkeologicum,  per- 
haps one  of  the  most  virulent  forms  of  human  ani- 
mosity, and  is  universally  esteemed  and  respected. 
His  speech  on  temperance  was  very  attractive  and 
decisive;  he  impressed  me  as  a  man  with  profound 
convictions,  who  knew  what  he  was  talking  about, 
and  uttered  every  sentence  with  a  decision  that  im- 
pressed you  with  his  sense  of  the  importance  of  his 
own  utterances.  His  language  was  perfection.  He 
was  received  by  the  audience  at  Plymouth  with  great 
enthusiasm. 

Another,  who  presided  at  my  lecture  at  Croydon, 
was  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Rochester,  who  has  one  of 
the  sweetest  faces  I  ever  looked  upon.  He  is  small 
in  person,  but  great  in  effort,  dignified  but  not  stiff, 
exceedingly  courteous  and  genial,  and  the  perfect 
gentleman.  A  short  time  since,  he  was  a  hard-work- 
ing English  clergyman;  now  he  is  an  evangelical 
bishop  in  one  of  the  busiest  of  English  dioceses. 


42  BORROWING   HALF   A   SOVEREIGN". 

His  speech  is  grave  but  forcible  and  to  the  point. 
He  said  emphatically:  "I  deserve  neither  praise  nor 
pity  for  being  a  total  abstainer.  I  do  not  deserve 
praise,  because  I  never  did  a  better  thing  for  myself 
in  all  my  life ;  nor  do  I  deserve  pity,  for  it  has  doubled 
my  working  power."  He  is  held  in  high  esteem,  and 
is  universally  respected  and  beloved.  He  spoke  to 
me  of  the  great  delight  which  he  has  always  expe- 
rienced in  his  repeated  visits  to  the  United  States. 

The  Bishop  of  Bangor  presided  at  my  lecture  at 
Carnarvon,  but,  owing  to  his  late  arrival,  I  saw  but 
little  of  him  beyond  the  personal  formalities  of  the 
immediate  occasion. 

The  Bishop  of  Bedford  presided  at  my  lecture  in 
Oswestry.  He  preached  the  Temperance  sermon  in 
Westminster  Abbey  for  the  League,  in  March  last. 
Canon  Ellison  presided  for  me  at  Oxford;  Canon 
Wilberforce,  at  Southampton;  Canon  Connor,  at 
Newport,  Isle  of  Wight;  the  Dean  of  York,  at  York; 
the  Dean  of  Durham,  at  Newcastle;  the  Lord  Lieu- 
tenant and  father  of  the  House  of  Commons,  Hon. 
Mr.  Talbot,  at  Swansea;  the  Lord  Mayor  of  Dublin, 
at  Dublin.  What  a  change  in  public  sentiment  in 
twenty  years!  when  it  was  rare  to  obtain  the  service 
of  a  clergyman  to  preside. 

Another  chairman  was  Benjamin  Whitworth,  a  man 
who  has  made  his  own  way  in  the  world,  and  who  is 
now,  or  was  till  lately,  one  of  the  largest  employers 
of  labor  in  England.  He  is  a  man  of  middle  height, 
gray  hair,  pleasant  in  aspect,  calm  and  convincing  in 
speech.  Said  a  friend  of  mine  to  one  who  knew  him 
well  some  years  ago,  "  How  did  Mr.  Whitworth  make 
all  his  money?"  "  Why,  by  borrowing  half  a  sover- 
eign," was  the  reply.  My  friend  said  to  me,  "  I'm 


MAKING   A  FOKTUNE.  43 

afraid  that  cannot  be  the  secret  of  his  success,  as  I 
went  at  once  and  borrowed  a  sovereign,  and  yet  I  am 
far  from  having  made  a  fortune.  It  requires  financial 
genius  to  make  a  fortune  out  of  half  a  sovereign;  but 
that  genius  Mr.  Whitworth  has  in  an  eminent  degree, 
and  it  has  made  him  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  a 
man  of  mark."  He  commenced  his  speech  of  intro- 
duction with  a  few  very  pithy  remarks,  announcing 
himself  as  the  oldest  total-abstainer  perhaps  in  the 
world,  as  he  was  sixty-two  years  of  age,  and  had 
never  tasted  intoxicating  drink  in  his  life.  With 
such  a  record,  he  carries  a  great  deal  of  power;  and, 
though  rich  and  of  commanding  influence,  he  is  very 
simple  in  his  manners,  thoroughly  the  gentleman 
without  any  superciliousness.  I  was  very  much  at- 
tracted to  him,  and  enjoyed  meeting  him  exceed- 
ingly. 

I  had  the  pleasure  and  privilege  of  meeting  Sir 
Wilfred  Lawson,  the  president  of  the  United  King- 
dom Alliance,  who  was  the  chairman  at  my  third 
lecture  in  Mr.  Spurgeon's  tabernacle.  He  is  one  of 
the  wittiest  men  in  the  House  of  Commons.  I  am 
told  that  his  income  from  land  alone  is  £100,000  per 
annum.  If  he  were  not  a  teetotaler,  he  would  be  a 
"jolly  good  fellow,"  perhaps,  in  the  bacchanalian  sense 
of  the  term;  as  it  is,  he  is  a  "jolly  good  fellow"  in  a 
higher  and  nobler  sense.  It  is  impossible  to  converse 
with  him  for  five  minutes  without  being  affected  by 
his  goodness  and  humor.  He  overflows  with  what 
Lord  Beaconsfield  terms  "  gay  wisdom,"  and  is  even 
more  witty  in  private  than  in  public  life.  His  wit 
seems  to  be  hereditary.  Many  years  ago,  when  Henry 
Brougham  canvassed  Cumberland,  Sir  Wilfred's  grand- 
father was  his  vigorous  supporter.  On  one  occasion, 


44  SIR  WILFRED   LAWSOtf. 

observing  that  the  conservative  side  of  the  hustings 
was  crowded  with  clergymen,  the  old  gentleman 
stretched  out  his  hand  towards  them,  exclaiming, 
"  The  Lord  gave  the  word,  and  great  was  the  company 
of  the  preachers,"  —  an  allusion  that  was  extremely 
well  relished  in  the  hustings.  Sir  Wilfred  takes  the 
world  easily.  He  is  good-tempered,  and  makes  you 
good-tempered  as  well.  He  has  a  fine,  manly  pres- 
ence, and  looks  as  if  he  might  do  good  service  to  the 
cause  of  temperance  and  righteousness  for  many  years 
to  come.  As  a  speaker,  he  is  very  fascinating,  and  at 
once  put  his  audience  en  rapport  with  himself.  When- 
ever you  see  a  speech  of  his  reported,  you  find  con- 
stantly the  notice  "  [roars  of  laughter]  ";  not  that  he 
is  flippant,  by  any  means;  but  he  introduces  side  hits 
that  are  irresistibly  funny,  and  seems  to  do  so  some- 
times with  an  utter  unconsciousness  that  he  has  said 
anything  ludicrous;  and  his  half  inquiring,  half  sur- 
prised look  at  the  convulsed  audience  only  adds  to 
their  merriment.  He  exhibits  in  his  speeches  sound 
common-sense,  unanswerable  argument,  logic  without 
a  flaw,  and  what  in  other  men  would  be  a  break  or 
digression,  with  him  is  only  reaching  out  for  and 
employing  some  outside  implement  to  drive  home  the 
truth.  His  good-nature  is  unshaken  by  opposition; 
and  when  sometimes  he  utters  an  unpalatable  truth, 
—  for  he  is  fearless  in  his  expressions  of  belief,  — 
there  may  be  a  storm  of  hissing,  he  is  perfectly  im- 
perturbable, and  will  quietly  introduce  a  story  or 
illustration  so  pat,  so  apt,  as  to  throw  the  laugh  upon 
his  opponents.  This  he  does  so  gracefully  that  the 
objectors  are  to  be  seen  laughing  as  heartily  as  the 
others  at  their  own  discomfiture,  reminding  you  of 
Charles  Lamb  when  he  hooted  and  hissed  as  loud  as 


PEACE   WITH  HONOR.  45 

any  of  the  audience  who  condemned  the  farce  on 
which  he  had  built  such  hopes  of  emolument. 

I  heard  him  twice:  once  at  a  meeting  of  the 
United  Kingdom  Alliance,  and  again  when  he  pre- 
sided at  Mr.  Spurgeon's  tabernacle.  I  was  very 
anxious  that  he  should  speak  at  length,  and  accord- 
ingly asked  him  to  occupy  as  much  time  as  possible. 
I  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  speech.  As  a  specimen  of 
his  style,  though  his  manner  is  unapproachable  and 
indescribable,  I  give  a  few  sentences  from  one  of  his 
speeches  on  the  liquor  traffic.  He  said :  "  The  pub- 
licans, if  you  read  their  speeches  at  their  dinners, 
generally  tell  you  that  they  are  licensed  by  the  law 
as  the  guardians  of  public  morality;  and  we  all  know 
that  the  police  are  the  guardians  of  the  public  peace. 
Therefore  we  may  say,  with  regard  to  this  licensing 
question,  and  this  conjunction  of  publicans  and  police, 
that  righteousness  and  peace  have  kissed  each  other." 

He  is  a  strong  liberal,  and  often  introduces  a  hit, 
very  keen,  but  very  smooth,  at  the  opposition.  One 
of  the  mottoes  of  the  conservative  party  in  reference 
to  the  mission  to  Berlin,  is,  "Peace  with  honor;"  so 
in  speaking  of  the  publicans,  he  said:  "If  you  read 
their  speeches  as  I  have  done,  you  would  say  that  the 
whole  tone  of  them  is,  that  they  are  great  public 
benefactors,  unappreciated  by  a  hard-hearted  world, 
who  would  retire  and  take  refuge  in  some  less  philan- 
thropic and  arduous  business,  where  they  might  find 
*  Peace  with  honor,' "  —  here  he  was  interrupted  by 
cheers,  laughter,  and  hisses,  when  he  finished  with  — 
"  if  it  were  not  for  their  burning  desire,  to  minister  to 
their  own  comfort,  and  promote  the  happiness  and 
well-being  of  the  people."  Take  him  for  all  in  all,  he 
is  one  of  the  most  effective  speakers  for  the  legisla- 


46  WITTY   SPEECHES. 

tive  temperance  question  in  England.  He  has  pun- 
gent sarcasm  without  bitterness,  meets  opposition 
with  unfailing  good -humor;  his  wit  is  sharp,  but 
never  causes  a  rankling  wound.  He  is  immensely 
popular,  and  the  very  announcement  of  his  name 
creates  enthusiasm.  I  met  him  at  the  dinner  of  the 
Medical  Temperance  Society,  at  Langham  Hotel,  and 
was  charmed  by  his  easy  and  gentlemanly  courtesy. 

I  venture  to  give  a  short  extract  or  two  from  his 
speech  at  the  Tabernacle,  believing  it  will  be  interest- 
ing to  many: 

"  Ladies  and  Gentlemen :  I  was  at  a  large  meeting  last  night.  I 
took  up  the  '  Echo '  newspaper  just  before  I  came  here  this  evening,  and 
I  saw  a  paragraph  in  which  it  stated  that  Sir  Wilfred  Lawson  made  a 
4  tolerably  long  speech.'  I  am  afraid  there  was  a  little  misprint,  and 
that  the  writer  meant  an  intolerably  long  speech.  [Laughter.]  I  shall 
take  warning,  and  not  make  you  an  intolerably  long  speech  to-night ; 
but  Mr.  Gough  kindly  wishes  me  to  say  a  few  words  before  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  introducing  him  to  this  magnificent  meeting,  [loud  cheers,] 
for  it  is  the  grandest  meeting  which  ever  I  had  the  pleasure  of  address- 
ing. [Renewed  cheers.]  I  thank  those  gentlemen  who  have  promoted 
this  meeting  for  having  done  me  the  honor  of  asking  me  to  preside  over 
it.  I  feel  that  it  is  an  honor,  and  more  than  that,  it  is  a  luxury;  for  I 
am  more  in  the  habit,  at  these  meetings,  of  speaking  than  of  listening. 
To-night  I  shall  have  the  treat  —  which  will  be  all  the  greater  because  it 
will  be  shared  by  the  many  thousands  whom  I  see  around  me  —  of  hear- 
ing  And  another  reason  why  I  feel  it  pleasant  to  come  to  this 

meeting,  is  because  I  am  in  the  habit  of  about  five  times  a  week  attend- 
ing another  meeting,  [laughter,]  which  is  held  at  St.  Stephen's,  and  I 
assure  you  I  do  not  attend  it  with  much  pleasure,  for  the  business  which 
we  are  engaged  in,  in  that  great  assembly,  is  one  which  is  enough  to 
wound  the  heart  of  any  man  of  feeling.  ["  Hear,  hear."]  There  we 
are,  day  by  day,  and  night  by  night,  devising  means  for  the  torture  and 
the  slaughter  of  our  fellow-men."  [Uproar.] 

In  speaking  of  the  results  of  drink,  he  said: 

"Take  lunacy.  Lord  Shaftesbury,  himself  a  lunacy  commissioner, 
has  told  us  that  drink  is  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  madness  in  thia 
country.  By  the  by,  while  I  am  talking  about  lunacy,  there  comes  into 
my  mind  a  remark  which  was  made  in  this  very  borough,  I  think,  or 


DR.   B.   W.   RICHARDSON.  47 

near  it,  by  a  very  great  friend  of  your  member's,  who  sits  by  my  side. 
That  good  friend  was  Mr.  Morgan  Howard,  who,  making  a  speech  at  a 
political  meeting  not  long  since,  assured  his  audience  that  during  the 
time  when  Mr.  Gladstone  was  in  office  there  were  more  lunatics  in  the 
asylums  of  this  country  than  at  any  other  period.  [Laughter.]  I  state 
that  to  show  you  the  enormity  of  the  evil,  because  I  am  quite  sure  you 
will  agree  with  me  that,  since  the  present  government  came  in,  the 
lunatics  have  got  loose !  " 

And  in  conclusion  he  said: 

"  I  don't  need  to  tell  you  to  hear  him ;  what  I  do  tell  you,  is  to  heed 
him,  to  take  to  heart  the  counsels  which  he  will  give  you,  and  to  send 
him  back,  when  in  a  short  time  he  goes  across  the  Atlantic,  to  the 
Republic  of  the  West,  with  a  message  that  we  intend  to  live  henceforth 
in  unity  and  peace  with  them,  [loud  cheers,]  and  that  the  only  strife 
between  us  shall  be  the  generous  rivalry  as  to  which  country  first  shall 
overthrow  that  foul  and  degraded  system,  based  on  prejudice,  on  tyran- 
nous custom,  and  on  unjust  laws,  which  at  present  is  the  greatest  hin- 
drance in  all  the  paths  of  virtue  and  holiness  and  of  true  glory,  which 
yet  blocks  the  way  of  the  two  greatest  nations  of  the  world."  [Ap- 
plause.] 

One  of  the  men  upon  whom  the  friends  of  temper- 
ance in  England  rely  very  much  for  medical  testi- 
mony against  alcoholic  drinks  is  Dr.  Richardson,  and 
I  believe  the  cause  has  received  through  his  advocacy 
a  most  powerful  impetus,  not  only  in  Great  Britain, 
but  all  over  the  world  where  the  English  language  is 
spoken;  moreover,  his  works  have  been  translated 
into  several  foreign  languages.  He  hails  from  the 
county  of  Leicester,  and  was  born  in  the  year  1828. 
His  education  was  chiefly  in  Scotland.  In  1855  he 
originated  the  first  sanitary  English  journal,  the 
"Journal  of  Public  Health,  and  Sanitary  Review," 
which  he  edited  for  several  years.  In  1856  he  gained 
the  Astley  Cooper  prize  of  three  hundred  guineas  for 
an  essay  on  the  coagulation  of  the  blood,  and  he  be- 
came a  member  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians. 
As  a  lecturer  and  writer  On  the  diseases  of  modern 


48  FAREWELL   RECEPTION. 

life,  on  the  influence  of  alcohol  and  other  matters  of 
similar  character,  no  one  is  more  popular  or  more  suc- 
cessful than  Dr.  Richardson;  and  he  speaks  with  the 
more  authority  and  effect,  because  at  one  time  he  be- 
lieved in  and  used  wine,  and  recommended  its  use. 
His  numerous  works  speak  for  him.  His  style  is 
very  attractive.  I  heard  him  lecture  once  in  Exeter 
Hall,  and  was  fascinated  from  the  first  utterances  to 
the  closing  words;  and  so  intense  was  the  interest 
which  he  awakened,  that  at  his  conclusion,  when  the 
spell  was  lifted,  there  was  left  the  regret  that  I  could 
not  hear  it  all  again.  To  those  (and  there  are  many 
in  this  country)  who  have  read  his  works,  I  need  not 
say  how  charming  as  well  as  vigorous  is  his  style. 

He  is  not  very  tall,  rather  stout,  but  well  formed, 
and  with  a  face  of  remarkable  intelligence  and  geni- 
ality. He  was  one  of  the  first  to  greet  me  on  my 
arrival  in  England,  and  I  -found  him  a  sincere  friend 
and  cordial  ally.  The  last  evening  I  spent  in  London 
was  at  a  ^  farewell  reception  in  his  house,  where  I 
met  a  delightful  company;  among  them  the  venerable 
S.  C.  Hall,  known  for  two  generations  as  an  authority 
on  matters  of  art,  the  editor  for  years  of  the  "Art 
Journal,"  and  a  good  worker  for  temperance;  his  wife, 
Mrs.  Anna  Maria  Hall,  who  has  written  very  elo- 
quently on  social  reform,  was  detained  by  ill-health. 

Another  medical  man  claimed  by  the  total  abstain- 
ers, (I  was  not  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  him,)  and 
received  as  an  authority  by  those  who  are  engaged  in 
the  temperance  work,  is  Sir  Henry  Thompson.  He 
was  born  in  Framlingham,  in  Suffolk,  the  son  of  a 
grocer  and  draper,  and  became  in  course  of  time, 
when  a  young  man,  a  partner  in  his  father's  business ; 
but  he  soon  left  it,  and  entered  himself  as  a  student 


SIR  HENRY  THOMPSON.  49 

at  University  College,  London,  with  an  aim  to  study 
medicine.  He  passed  successfully  through  all  his 
classes,  and  then  went  to  Paris  to  study  the  French 
language  and  surgery.  He  returned  to  London,  mar- 
ried Kate  Loder,  the  celebrated  pianist,  set  up  in 
practice  in  Wimpole  Street,  in  the  fashionable  quarter 
of  the  town.  Here  his  essay  won  the  Jacksonian 
prize  for  the  year,  and  he  at  once  became  a  man  of 
mark.  He  was  brought  under  the  notice  of  the  King 
of  the  Belgians,  on  whom  he  performed  a  successful 
operation,  where  surgeons  in  Paris  and  London  had 
failed.  The  result  was  that  he  rose  at  once  to  the 
first  rank  in  his  profession.  The  King  of  the  Bel- 
gians gave  him,  so  I  have  heard,  £3,000.  The  Queen 
of  England  made  him  a  knight,  and  nobles  and  great 
men  consulted  him ;  and  it  is  said  that  his  practice  is 
worth  £20,000  per  year.  His  letter  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  on  the  evils  of  moderate  drink- 
ing, begging  his  Grace  to  use  his  influence  to  stop  it, 
created  an  immense  sensation,  and  did  much  to  open 
men's  eyes,  and  convince  them  of  the  evils  of  the 
moderate  use  of  alcohol.  Sir  Henry  has  great  talents 
as  an  artist,  and  has  been  a  frequent  exhibitor  in  the 
Royal  Academy.  His  Thursday  dinners,  at  which 
the  artists  and  wits  assemble,  are  among  the  most  cele- 
brated in  London.  He  is  tall,  thin,  gentlemanly,  with 
a  gray,  thick  moustache,  a  dark  eye  that  looks  you 
through  and  through,  and  a  clear,  emphatic  manner, 
which  makes  the  patient  feel  that  he  is  safe  in  his 
hands.  Calm,  imperturbable  as  he  is,  Sir  Henry  feels 
much.  It  is  said  that  at  the  end  of  a  very  difficult 
operation  he  has  exclaimed,  "  There's  another  nail  in 
my  coffin." 

I  was  brought  into  contact  with  these  men  by  my 
4 


50  LORD   HIGH   CHANCELLOR. 

connection  with  them  as  chairmen  at  special  efforts  in 
the  temperance  cause.  My  list  would  be  incomplete 
without  mentioning  one  of  the  noblest  men  of  England. 
I  refer  to  the  then  Lord  High  Chancellor,  Earl  Cairns; 
the  man  who  stands  next  to  the  throne  in  official  cir- 
cles ;  the  chairman  of  that  august  assembly,  the  House 
of  Lords;  a  man  who  would  not  bind  himself  to  any 
cause  that  was  not  a  noble  one;  who  has  all  a  law- 
yer's caution;  who  has  in  his  bearing  that  hardness 
which  constitutes  a  man  of  the  world,  before  whom 
sophistry  and  sentimentalism  plead  in  vain.  It  was  a 
beautiful  sight  to  see  him,  in  the  height  of  the  London 
season,  —  when  time  was  with  him  most  valuable, 
when  his  mind  was  most  strained  with  important 
state  affairs,  —  devote  one  afternoon  to  preside  at  a 
lecture  of  mine  in  Exeter  Hall,  and,  with  chastened 
eloquence  and  matured  wisdom,  earnestly  commend- 
ing the  cause  of  which  I  was  the  advocate,  and  with 
which  I  have  been  identified  so  many  years.  In  his 
gown  and  wig,  on  the  woolsack  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  with  his  gold  mace  before  him,  the  Lord  High 
Chancellor  is  a  very  formidable  personage.  Even  as 
a  plain  man  in  the  streets,  you  would  notice  Lord 
Cairns  by  his  stateliness  and  calmness,  indicative  of  a 
temperament  and  resolve  of  iron,  which  has  lifted  him 
up,  the  son  of  a  clergyman,  to  the  very  topmost  pin- 
nacle of  the  London  world.  When  such  a  man  is 
delighted  to  lend  the  weight  of  his  name  and  influ- 
ence and  presence  and  speech  to  such  efforts,  how 
great  has  been  the  progress  of  temperance  principles 
in  the  highest  circles  of  the  old  country!  And 
what  a  personal  triumph,  to  be  thus  honored  for  my 
work's  sake  in  the  land  where  I  was  born  to  so  low 
n  lot! 


LOUD   PEOYOST   COLLETS.  51 

Truly  the  progress  in  twenty-five  years  has  been 
amazing  and  remarkable.  At  Rochdale,  where  I  spoke, 
the  Mayor  of  the  city  was  in  the  chair,  the  Mayor  of 
Bury  supporting  him  on  one  side,  the  Mayor  of  Old- 
ham  on  the  other,  giving  their  countenance,  in  their 
official  capacity,  (for  they  wore  the  massive  gold 
chains  and  insignia  of  office,)  to  the  temperance 
cause.  In  Glasgow,  the  Lord  Provost  Collins  pre- 
sided and  entertained  us  at  his  residence.  He  is 
thoroughly  devoted  to  the  reform,  gives  liberally,  and 
is  always  ready  to  give  his  whole  influence  most 
heartily  to  the  work.  On  January  1,  1879,  he  enter- 
tained eight  thousand  of  the  unemployed  at  a  sub- 
stantial meal.  Several  of  the  largest  halls  in  Glas- 
gow were  engaged  for  the  occasion,  and  appropriate 
speeches  were  made  by  ministers  of  the  Gospel  and 
by  others.  In  many  ways  he  has  manifested  his  deep 
interest  in  and  sympathy  for  the  poor  people,  espe- 
cially the  deserving  working  class. 

The  Duke  of  Westminster  had  engaged  to  preside 
at  my  meeting  at  Chester,  but  a  severe  attack  of 
bronchitis  prevented.  He  is  the  wealthiest  man  in 
England;  a  small,  thin,  dark-complexioned  man,  not 
celebrated  as  an  orator,  but  a  nobleman  who  mani- 
fests a  deep  interest  in  the  temperance'  cause,  and 
who  exerts  a  powerful  influence.  He  has  been  the 
means  of  reducing  the  number  of  public-houses  on 
his  large  estates.  He  is  a  personal  abstainer.  Though 
occupying  so  high  a  position,  he  is  very  unassuming, 
as  all  truly  great  men  are.  A  friend  of  mine,  who 
was  a  stranger  to  his  Grace,  was  one  day  at  a  musical 
soiree  in  the  great  reception-rooms  of  Grosvenor 
House,  and  as  he  was  standing  with  some  others  in 
the  doorway,  a  gentleman  asked  them  to  take  a 


52  DUKE    OP   WESTMINSTER. 

seat  in  the  next  room,  "where,"  he  said,  "you  can 
hear  just  as  well."  "  Oh,"  said  my  friend,  "  I  don't 
care  where  I  sit,  so  long  as  I  can  hear  what  the 
Duke  has  to  say  for  himself."  "  Oh,"  observed  the 
stranger,  "I  will  let  you  know  when  I  am  going 
to  speak."  My  friend  was  talking  to  the  great  Duke 
himself. 

I  was  delighted  to  meet  again  my  dear  and  honored 
friend,  Samuel  Bowly,  whose  tall,  erect,  and  manly 
presence  shows  how  well  teetotalers  can  bear  the 
heat  and  burden  of  the  day,  and  who  has  for  many 
years  constantly  and  liberally  devoted  his  time  and 
means  to  the  promotion  of  every  good  work.  In  his 
advanced  age,  he  is  as  useful  and  powerful,  and  I 
believe  more  influential,  than  ever.  With  his  high 
social  position,  he  has  done  a  great  work  for  the  tem- 
perance cause  among  those  who  could  not  otherwise 
have  been  reached,  by  his  very  successful  parlor-meet- 
ings at  the  houses,  and  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the 
wealthy  and  educated,  introducing  teetotalism  into 
many  a  circle  where  it  was  once  a  thing  to  be  scoffed 
at.  As  a  deputation  for  the  National  Temperance 
League,  of  which  he  is  the  honored  president,  he  has 
presented  the  cause  all  over  the  country  by  his  excel- 
lent and  persuasive  platform  speeches,  and  by  his 
agency  the  principles  are  honored  and  revered  where 
they  were  once  held  in  contempt.  I  know  of  no  man 
more  universally  beloved  than  dear  Samuel  Bowly  of 
Gloucester. 

Robert  Rae,  Secretary  of  the  National  Temperance 
League,  is  one  of  the  noble  self-sacrificing  workers 
that  inspire  with  new  courage  those  who  are  ready  to 
faint;  always  hopeful,  ever  striving  for  an  object, 
constantly  organizing  for  some  new  effort,  he  is  in- 


PERSISTENCE   A   CARDINAL   VIRTUE.  53 

Valuable  to  the  association.  One  of  the  most  patient 
yet  persistent  men  I  ever  knew;  holding  his  own, 
when  convinced  he  is  right,  against  all  opponents 
without  flinching,  yet  with  wonderful  equanimity; 
never  dictatorial,  but  always  firm;  a  reliable  friend, 
and  a  generous  enemy;  bold  in  denouncing  sin,  yet 
tender  to  the  sinner,  with  a  stern  rebuke  for  the  per- 
sistent transgressor,  but  with  deep  sympathy  for  the 
unfortunate;  never  compromising  wrong,  yet  very 
gentle  to  the  wronged.  He  is  one  whom  all  respect 
and  many  love. 

A  grand  worker  and  representative  Scotchman  was 
Thomas  Knox  of  Edinburgh,  whose  sudden  death  last 
December  was  felt  as  a  national  loss,  and  most  keenly 
mourned  by  the  temperance  friends  who  had  known 
him  for  so  many  years  as  a  firm  adherent  to  our  prin- 
ciples. He  once  said  to  me,  "  I  believe  persistence  to 
be  one  of  the  cardinal  virtues ; "  and  most  thoroughly 
did  he  exhibit  that  virtue.  When  I  was  in  Scotland, 
as  early  as  1853,  he  was  writing  powerful  articles  in 
the  secular  papers  on  education,  and  proposed  the 
introduction  of  temperance  lesson-books.  He  was 
strongly  opposed  by  one  section  of  the  community, 
and  barely  tolerated  by  another,  while  many  of  the 
friends  of  temperance  looked  coldly  on  his  scheme. 
But  he  persevered,  and  for  twenty  years  worked  for 
this  object,  with  small  encouragement  from  any  source, 
and  lived  to  see  his  plan  becoming  popular,  —  lived  to 
see  temperance  literature  introduced  into  many  of  the 
schools  of  his  beloved  Scotland,  and  to  know  that  his 
scheme  is  extensively  advocated  and  adopted,  not 
only  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  but  in  the  United 
States.  He  was  a  genial  man,  one  for  whom  I  have  a 
strong  affection.  He  has  encouraged  me  when  de- 


54  DEAR,   TRUE   FRIENDS. 

spending,  cheered  me  when  sad,  comforted  me  when 
suffering,  helped  me  when  I  needed  it.  He  was  my 
firm,  true,  tried,  and  trusted  friend,  and  I  shall  always 
thank  God  that  I  ever  knew  Thomas  Knox. 

As  I  pen  these  recollections  of  good  men,  I  see 
them  coming  in  troops  before  me,  and  I  must  forbear, 
or  I  should  fill  my  book  with  the  outpouring  of  my 
heart  towards  the  dear,  true  friends  of  my  life. 


CHAPTEK  HI. 

STREET    LIFE    AND    SCENES     TN    THE     WORLD'S 
METROPOLIS. 

London  —  Life  in  the  Metropolis  —  Great  Contrasts  —  Unknown 
Depths  —  "The  London  Market"  —  Shops  of  London  —  Streets  and 
Palaces  —  Distinctive  Communities  —  A  World  in  Miniature  — 
Street  People  —  Cab  Experience  —  Gathering  a  Crowd  —  "  Vot's 
hup,  Cabby? "  —  Excitements  of  the  Streets  —  Street  Children  —  "It 
looks  werry  nice,  Sir  "  —  Street  Boys'  Histories  —  Awful  Surround- 
ings in  Childhood  —  "  Never  had  a  Chance  "  —  Barnabas  or  Barab- 
bas?  —  After  the  Funeral  —  How  the  Boy  became  an  Outcast  — 
Vice  and  Crime  —  The  Orphan's  Lot  —  Sixteen  Hundred  Waifs  — 
Sleeping  in  an  Iron  Roller  and  in  the  Boot  of  an  Omnibus  —  "  We 
must  go  to  Business "  —  Money-Making  —  Diving  in  Sewers  — 
"  Mud-Larks  "  —  "  Wagabones  and  Hactors  "  —  Street  Arabs  — 
"  Peeler's  "  Difficulties  —  Street-Boys'  Wit  —  "  Penny  "  Merchants 
—  Street  Wares  —  Cheap  Books  —  "  Raising  the  Wind,"  .  .  65 

this  book  is  intended  for,  and  will  be 
read  principally  by,  Americans,  I  ven- 
ture to  introduce  many  of  my  expe- 
riences and  jottings  in  London  and 
England. 

London  is  a  fruitful  theme;  every 
year  a  fresh  crop  of  material  springs 
up.  I  do  not  say  that  he  who  has  seen 
London  has  seen  the  world,  but  I  do  say, 
that  to  all  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin  on  the  face  of  the 
wide  world,  there  is  no  city  fuller  of  interest  and 
excitement  than  London.  The  traditions  and  archives 
of  our  race  are  treasured  there.  To  us,  when  we 

55 


56  EXPLORING   LONDON. 

cross  the  Atlantic,  London  holds  out  a  friendly  hand; 
and  I  say  of  London,  as  Cowper  said  of  England,  — 
for  I  have  tasted  its  hospitality,  partaken  of  its  gen- 
erosity, and  been  familiar  with  its  people,  — 

"  London,  with  all  thy  faults,  I  love  thee  still." 

Yes;  London,  the  great  metropolis  whose  street 
scenes  so  fascinated  me;  London,  with  its  contrasts, 
its  squalid  poverty  and  its  enormous  wealth.  I  ex- 
plored London  with  great  interest,  becoming  more 
attracted  with  a  closer  acquaintance.  How  few  know 
London!  Though  I  spent  days  and  nights  in  my 
explorations,  I  know  but  very  little  of  the  great  me- 
tropolis. Out  of  America,  I  had  rather  live  in  London 
than  in  any  city  in  the  world.  You  cannot  know  it 
by  merely  spending  a  few  weeks  in  a  lodging-house 
or  hotel,  and  "  doing  the  sights :  "  you  must  explore. 
By  simply  skimming  the  surface,  you  know  nothing, 
comparatively.  It  is  a  place  that  grows  in  interest  on 
acquaintance.  At  first,  it  seems  darker,  duller,  noisier, 
and  more  bustling  than  any  ordinary  town  or  city. 
Few  like  London  on  a  first  visit ;  no  one  who  has  long 
lived  there  but  leaves  it  with  regret.  The  fairest  of 
England's  daughters,  the  manliest  of  England's  sons, 
all  press  to  London  as  the  fitting  arena  of  enterprise, 
conquest,  or  display.  London  drains  the  country, 
and  from  it  the  country  is  supplied.  Go  to  the  Land's 
End,  or  the  Scilly  Isles,  and  see  field  after  field  grown 
with  vegetables ;  inquire,  and  you  are  told  "  they  are 
for  the  London  market."  In  the  most  remote  parts  of 
Scotland,  ask  the  sportsman  shooting  grouse  the  des- 
tination of  those  wagon-loads  of  game,  and  you  are 
told  "they  are  for  the  London  market."  Cross  to 
Ireland,  that  butter  and  those  pigs  on  the  quays  of 


LOCH   LEVEN   TROUT.  57 

Dublin  and  Cork  are  for  the  London  market.  Sail  up 
the  remotest  bays  and  fiords  of  old  Norway,  and  ask 
whither  they  are  sending  those  lobsters,  crabs,  and 
salmon;  plant  yourself  in  some  picturesque  part  of 
Normandy,  and  ask  why  they  are  filling  these  vessels 
with  potatoes  and  eggs,  the  answer  is  still  the  same,  — 
"  for  the  London  market." 

In  the  shops  of  London,  the  finest  and  rarest 
productions  of  the  world  are  to  be  found.  In  Covent 
Garden  you  may  buy  green  peas,  ripe  strawberries, 
and  exquisite  flowers  the  year  round;  and,  as  I  said, 
it  is  from  London  that  the  country  is  supplied.  Per- 
haps you  are  dining  with  a  gentleman  two  or  three 
hundred  miles  from  town,  by  the  seaside  ;  you  ask 
where  he  obtained  so  fine  a  fish,  he  tells  you  it  was 
brought  by  train  from  London.  I  was  at  one  time 
engaged  to  speak  near  Loch  Leven.  The  gentleman 
who  entertained  me  said,  "I  shall  give  you  a  rare 
treat  for  supper  to-night,  —  Loch  Leven  trout."  "  Not 
very  rare  to  you,"  I  replied,  "  for  you  must  have  them 
in  abundance  during  the  season."  "  Indeed,"  said  he, 
"  we  do  not ;  we  who  live  here  cannot  obtain  them  for 
love  or  money,  except  on  special  occasions,  and  this 
is  one.  The  tacksman  sent  me  a  fine  dish  of  them, 
that  you  might  eat  trout  on  the  borders  of  Loch 
Leven,  which  we  very  seldom  do."  In  reply  to  my 
inquiry,  he  told  me  that  all  the  fish  were  contracted 
for  in  London  at  a  certain  rate,  on  condition  that  none 
should  be  sold  under  any  circumstances;  and  that  the 
disposal  of  a  single  trout  for  money  would  break  the 
contract;  and  said  he,  "  if  we  want  Loch  Leven  trout, 
we  must  obtain  them  from  London." 

London  is  a  very  fascinating  place  to  most  who 
have  resided  there  long,  in  spite  of  its  smoke,  dirt, 


58  SEVERAL   CITIES   IN  ONE. 

and  fog.  Charles  Lamb,  in  a  letter  to  Manning,  in 
reference  to  a  journey  in  the  country,  thus  speaks  of 
London :  "  Streets,  streets,  streets,  markets,  theatres, 
churches ;  Covent  Gardens ;  shops  sparkling  with 
pretty  faces  of  industrious  milliners,  neat  seamstresses, 
ladies  cheapening,  gentlemen  behind  counters  lying ; 
authors  in  the  streets  with  spectacles;  lamps  lit  at 
night;  if  you  happen  to  wake  at  midnight,  cries  of 
fire !  and  stop  thief !  inns  of  court,  with  their  learned 
air,  and  halls,  and  butteries,  old  book-stalls,  Jeremy 
Taylors,  Burtons  on  Melancholy,  and  Religio  Medicis 
at  every  stall ;  —  these  are  thy  pleasures,  O  London ! 
and  for  these  may  Keswick  and  her  giant  brood  go 
hang! " 

Dr.  Johnson  could  live  nowhere  else  but  in  London 
with  comfort.  London  is  several  cities  rolled  into 
one.  If  you  walk  along  Regent  Street,  it  is  a  city  of 
gorgeous  shops;  if  you  turn  to  the  west,  of  parks 
and  palaces;  if  you  travel  St.  Giles,  of  gin  and  dirt; 
in  Belgravia,  it  is  rich  and  grand;  in  Pimlico,  it  is 
poor  and  pretentious ;  in  Russell  Square  it  is  well-to- 
do,  —  successful  professional  men  abiding  in  what  Mr. 
Wilson  Croker  called  its  unexplored  regions.  You 
will  find  between  each  neighborhood  a  regular  line  of 
demarcation.  "When  I  consider  this  great  city," 
wrote  Addison,  —  and  the  language  is  applicable  now, 
—  "  in  its  several  quarters  and  divisions,  I  look  upon 
it  as  an  aggregate  of  various  nations,  distinguished 
from  each  other  by  their  respective  customs,  manners, 
and  interests.  The  courts  of  two  countries  do  not  so 
much  differ  from  one  another  as  the  court  and  city  of 
London,  in  their  peculiar  ways  of  life  and  conversa- 
tion. In  short,"  he  says,  "the  inhabitants  of  St. 
James,  notwithstanding  they  live  under  the  same 


WANT   OF   FRESH  AIR.  59 

laws,  and  speak  the  same  language,  are  a  distinct 
people  from  those  of  Cheapside,  by  several  climates 
and  degrees,  in  their  way  of  thinking  as  well  as  con- 
versing." 

Fashion  migrates  to  the  west;  actors  and  musi- 
cians live  about  Brompton;  the  medical  students  take 
possession  of  whole  streets  in  the  vicinity  of  their 
respective  hospitals;  the  inns  of  court  are  chiefly 
inhabited  by  barristers;  France,  Italy,  Hungary,  Po- 
land, you  will  find  represented  by  the  cafes  and  cigar- 
shops,  billiard-rooms  and  restaurants  of  Leicester 
Square;  Wapping,  Rotherhithe,  and  the  Commercial 
Road  abound  with  sailors  of  every  nation  under  the 
sun;  Quakers  live  about  Edmonton  and  Stoke-New- 
ington;  Jews  congregate  in  Houndsditch.  In  short, 
the  swells  in  the  parks,  the  millers  in  Mark  Lane,  the 
graziers  in  the  new  Cattle  Market,  the  prim,  pale  lads 
in  the  city,  the  silk-weavers  of  Spitalfields,  or  the  sugar- 
bakers  of  White  Chapel,  really  form  distinct  commu- 
nities, and  seem  absolutely  localized  in  their  ideas. 

The  late  Dr.  Arnott,  one  of  the  greatest  sanitary 
reformers  of  the  age,  used  to  say,  that  though  Lon- 
don was  not  a  place  where  the  rate  of  mortality  was 
very  high,  yet  it  was  a  place  where  no  one  enjoyed 
very  good  health.  There  is  more  and  more  danger 
every  year  of  its  health  being  diminished,  by  want  of 
fresh  air.  People  live  out  of  town,  rents  are  too  high 
in  the  city,  and,  in  consequence  of  its  rapid  extension, 
the  great  and  growing  evil  is  the  want  of  fresh  air. 
It  is  stated,  in  confirmation  of  this  fact,  that  every 
year  the  hospital  surgeons  in  London  find  it  more 
difficult  to  cure  wounds  and  injuries  to  the  human 
body,  on  account  of  the  growing  impurity  of  the 
London  air.  A  few  years  ago  there  was  such  a  fog 


60  "  'OLD  'AKD,  HOLD  FELLER." 

in  London,  not  only  in  the  city,  but  at  the  Agricul- 
tural Hall  at  Islington,  that  fat  cattle  worth  hundreds 
of  pounds  —  cattle  that  had  won  prizes  at  various 
fairs  —  were  actually  suffocated.  Long  ago,  that 
famous  man,  Count  Rumford,  used  to  estimate  the 
amount  of  coal  suspended  in  the  London  air  as  some 
millions  of  chaldrons.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  Sir 
Rutherford  Alcock,  when  he  visited  the  great  wall  in 
China,  brought  back  with  him  a  couple  of  bricks; 
one  of  these  bricks  he  put  outside  a  London  balcony. 
In  two  years  it  had  gone  entirely  to  pieces,  being 
disintegrated  by  the  action  of  the  atmosphere.  This 
materially  affects  out-of-door  monuments  in  particu- 
lar, and  street  architecture  in  general.  They  have 
been  compelled  to  cover  the  Obelisk  on  the  Embank- 
ment with  a  preparation,  to  preserve  it,  as  it  began  to 
crumble. 

The  people  in  the  London  streets,  by  day  or  night, 
are  fascinating  to  me;  and  I  never  weary  of  strolling 
about  and  watching  them.  It  is  very  easy  to  gather 
a  crowd:  a  horse  falls  down,  and  in  a  few  minutes  it 
requires  a  policeman  to  clear  the  street.  One  evening 
I  started  in  a  cab  from  the  Midland  Railway  Station 
for  Piccadilly,  accompanied  by  a  lady.  We  had 
passed  the  Five  Dials,  and  were  in  Gerrard  Street, 
when  the  horse  staggered  and  fell.  At  once  a  crowd 
of  men,  women,  boys,  and  girls  gathered  round  us. 
"  Yot's  hup,  cabby?"  "  Yy,  don't  yer  see  vot's  hup? 
My  'orse  is  down;  that's  vot's  hup."  "Yah,  he's  got 
the  staggers,  blest  if  he  'asn't."  "'Old  'ard,  hold 
feller;"  to  the  horse,  who  was  struggling.  "Now, 
then,  stupid,  do  you  vant  your  blessed  legs  broke 
vith  them  'ere  'eels?  "  "  Yot  are  ye  vipping  him  for?" 
"  Yun  of  ye  sit  on  'is  'ed,  and  vee'l  get  'im  out  of  the 


STKEET   BOYS   AND   GIRLS.  61 

shafts  in  a  jiffy."  Such  a  din!  boys  laughing,  women 
screaming  at  every  fresh  struggle  of  the  wretched 
horse,  or  pitying  him  with,  "poor  thing!"  "vot  a 
shame !  "  The  poor,  beer-soaked  cabman  was  perfectly 
bewildered,  the  crowd  and  confusion  increasing,  some 
one  cried  out,  "  'ere's  the  perlice,"  and  by  his  direc- 
tion we  transferred  our  luggage  to  another  cab;  and, 
paying  half  a  crown  in  fees,  beside  the  cabby's  fare, 
we  got  away,  leaving  the  poor  horse  on  the  ground, 
and  the  crowd  undiminished.  You  hail  a  cab,  or 
hansom,  where  there  is  a  stream  of  passers-by,  and 
immediately  a  group  of  persons  will  stop  to  see  you 
get  in.  Stand  stock-still,  and  stare  in  one  direction, 
and  a  dense  crowd  will  soon  be  formed;  ask  a  man, 
"  What  is  the  matter ;  what  are  the  people  standing 
like  that  for?"  He  doesn't  know,  he  says,  and  yet 
he  is  staring  as  earnestly  as  any. 

The  street  folks  are  easily  excited.  In  some  parts 
of  the  city,  in  the  evening,  you  see  an  organ-grinder 
at  work,  and  young  girls  dancing  with  as  keen  an 
enjoyment  as  the  fashionable  lady  at  the  stylish  ball. 
These  street  boys  and  girls  are  uncontrollable.  I 
found  them,  after  twenty  years,  just  the  same, — 
keen,  sharp,  impudent.  Coming  through  the  Strand, 
a  flake  of  soot  fell  on  my  moustache.  I  began  to  run 
my  fingers  through  the  hair,  when  a  ragged,  little  bit 
of  a  boy  looked  up  at  me  and  said,  with  a  perfectly 
sober  face,  "  It  looks  wery  nice,  sir." 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  compulsory  education  by 
the  school  boards  will  be  effectual  in  repressing  them 
in  some  degree;  but  it  is  wonderful  the  numbers 
who  evade  the  provisions  of  the  School  Act,  and 
every  day  the  "  Bobbies,"  as  they  term  the  policemen, 
are  commissioned  to  arrest  a  truant.  It  is  vastly 


62  AN  AMUSING   CHASE. 

amusing  when  a  policeman  undertakes  to  capture  one 
or  more  of  these  wild  boys  or  girls,  as  they  rush 
about,  followed  by  the  panting  "  Bobby,"  out  of 
breath,  and  altogether  too  heavy  to  cope  with  such 
small  fry.  The  little  one  has  the  game  in  his  own 
hands,  and  he  knows  it.  Policeman  has  no  chance  in 
a  fair  race;  at  a  long  distance,  the  odds  might  be  in 
his  favor.  He  has  long  legs;  he  has,  perhaps,  more 
than  an  average  amount  of  bone  and  muscle;  but  he 
is  not  fairly  matched :  he  can't  dodge  under  horses ; 
he  can't  crawl  between  the  wheels  of  a  street-car,  or 
an  omnibus;  he  can't  hide  his  portly  form  behind  a 
pillar  box;  and  his  pursuit  is  like  a  buffalo  chasing  a 
butterfly,  which  generally  ends  in  failure,  and  perhaps 
the  last  act  of  the  farce  is  the  little  rascal  taking  a 
sight  at  him. 

Occasionally  one  is  caught;  and  now  let  us  question 
the  poor  little  fellow.  You  find  he  is  shrewd,  quick, 
sensitive,  yet  thoroughly  wicked,  —  a  waif  of  the 
streets.  Read  his  history  before  you  pass  judgment. 
His  home  is  a  cellar;  his  mother  a  shameless  beggar; 
his  father  a  drunkard;  his  sisters,  with  livid,  withered, 
sad  faces,  ply  their  dreadful  trade.  His  family  are 
vagabonds  and  outcasts.  He  dwells  amid  unclean- 
ness  and  cruelty,  catching  the  contagion  of  sin,  and 
in  sympathy  with  polluted  humanity  in  every  form. 
His  history?  It  is  one  of  darkness,  without  one  ray 
of  light ;  a  history  which,  if  traced  in  tears  'and  written 
in  blood,  none  of  us  would  have  nerve  enough  to  read. 
Born  and  brought  up  in  the  midst  of  such  horrible 
surroundings,  he  is  what  he  is.  How  can  he  grow 
God-like,  while  all  the  influences  of  his  life  tend  to 
make  and  keep  him  morally  hideous?  Take  one  of 
your  own  dear  ones,  and  give  him  the  education  that 


BARNABAS  —  NOT  BAEABBAS.          63 

boy  has  had,  with  all  his  woftil  experience  of  life,  and 
he  would  be  as  he  is  —  no  better,  no  worse.  Would 
you  be  what  you  are  if  your  infancy  and  childhood 
had  been  passed  among  all  the  horrible  influences  that 
have  surrounded  him?  Think  of  this,  and  look  at 
him  as  he  is;  and  do  not  sweep  him  away  with  the 
pitiful  leavings  of  the  street,  but  help  him,  give  him 
knowledge,  teach  him  the  Lord's  Prayer,  tell  him  of 
Jesus.  That,  boy  may  be  made  a  Barnabas,  instead 
of  a  Barabbas.  As  we  know  more  of  such  neglected 
ones,  the  less  critical  and  the  more  loving  we  shall  be. 
He  who  knew  the  hearts  of  all  was  the  most  gentle 
in  dealing  with  ignorance.  He,  the  undenled,  en- 
deavored to  win  the  hearts  of  the  guilty,  because  He 
loved  them ;  and  surely  we  may  be  patient  —  ay, 
even  believing  and  hoping  —  in  all  our  efforts  to 
lift  up  the  unfortunate,  and  thus  do  Christ's  work  on 
earth.  Solomon  says,  that  "  Foolishness  is  bound  up 
in  the  heart  of  a  child ;  "  and  what  is  to  be  expected 
of  these  boys  born  and  bred  in  the  streets?  I  have 
seen  the  children  from  a  Christian  home  go  astray. 
Some  of  the  sons  of  the  wealthy  and  refined  have 
become  poor  and  coarse;  but  these  children  of  the 
drunkard  and  the  thief  never  had  a  chance. 

A  poor  working-man  in  Lambeth,  when  returning 
one  Sabbath  afternoon  from  a  ragged  school,  found  a 
little  boy  sitting  in  a  very  destitute  condition  on  a 
door-step,  took  hitn  home,  and  asked  his  history.  The 
lad  was  about  ten  years  of  age;  his  mother  had  died 
when  he  was  a  baby,  so  that  he  had  no  recollection 
of  her;  his  father  had  been  dead  about  twelve  months 
—  partly  from  the  effects  of  drink.  The  furniture  of 
his  room  was  sold  the  day  of  the  funeral  to  pay  the 
expenses.  When  the  lad  returned  from  the  grave, 


64  WAIFS   OF   THE   STREETS. 

he  found  a  man  busy  removing  the  poor  sticks  and 
rags  from  the  wretched  apartment,  making  it  more 
desolate  in  its  emptiness.  The  boy  left  that  room  an 
outcast.  The  first  night  he  slept  in  a  court;  then  he 
found  refuge  in  a  railway  arch;  then  in  the  boot  of 
an  omnibus.  Such  was  his  story.  Is  it  wonderful, 
when  we  think  of  these  things,  that  there  should  be 
vice  and  crime  in  London?  Sixteen  hundred  of  these 
poor  little  waifs  were  gathered  from  the  streets,  and, 
on  examination,  one  hundred  and  sixty-two  confessed 
that  they  had  been  in  prison  —  not  merely  once  or 
twice,  but  several  of  them  many  times ;  one  hundred 
and  sixteen  had  run  away  from  their  homes ;  one  hun- 
dred and  seventy  slept  in  the  lodging  houses;  two 
hundred  and  fifty-three  had  lived  together  by  begging; 
two  hundred  and  sixteen  had  neither  shoes  nor  stock- 
ings ;  two  hundred  and  eighty  had  no  cap  or  covering 
for  the  head ;  one  hundred  and  one  had  no  linen ;  two 
hundred  and  forty-nine  had  never  slept  in  a  bed; 
sixty-eight  were  the  children  of  convicts.  How  did 
they  live?  Why,  as  they  could:  by  sweeping  cross- 
ings, turning  somersaults  for  the  amusement  of 
passers-by,  selling  lucifer  matches,  oranges,  tapes, 
or  ballads.  One  boy,  during  the  inclement  winter, 
passed  the  greater  part  of  his  nights  in  the  large 
iron  roller  in  Regents  Park.  As  an  illustration  of 
the  low  rate  of  morality,  I  would  mention  what 
passed  at  a  ragged  school,  to  which  some  fourteen 
or  fifteen  boys  were  admitted.  One  Sunday  evening, 
when  the  clock  struck  eight,  they  all  arose.  The 
master  took  one  little  fellow  by  the  arm,  as  he  was 
leaving,  and  said,  "  You  must  remain,  the  lesson  is 
not  over."  The  reply  was,  "We  must  go  to  busi- 
ness." The  master  inquired  what  business;  the  an- 


MONEY-MAKING  METHODS.  65 

swer  was,  that  they  must  be  off  to  "  catch  the  people 
as  they  came  out  of  churches  and  chapels."  In  short, 
they  were  pickpockets. 

Lord  Ingestre  says,  in  his  "  Meliora,"  that  he  vis- 
ited some  low  dancing-saloons.  In  one,  a  man  was 
pointed  out,  respectably  dressed,  who  gained  his  living 
by  drawing  pictures  of  a  ship  or  steam-engine  on  the 
pavement.  These  pictures  were  sold  to  boys  at  one 
shilling  each.  The  man  made  several  of  these  draw- 
ings in  various  localities  before  people  were  about, 
and  thus  did  very  well. 

In  London  there  is  an  immense  variety  of  methods 
for  making  money.  A  lady  was  one  day  driving 
along  one  of  the  green  lanes  that  are  still  to  be  met 
with  in  the  vicinity  of  London,  and  saw  a  poor  woman 
gathering  some  chestnut-leaves.  She  stopped  and 
asked  for  what  purpose;  the  reply  was,  that  the 
leaves  were  sold  to  the  fruiterers  in  Covent  Garden, 
to  put  in  their  baskets  of  fruit.  On  another  occasion, 
it  came  out  that  women  and  children  tore  down  the 
placards  in  the  streets  at  night,  and  thus  made  a 
trifle  by  selling  them  as  waste  paper.  One  man  dives 
in  the  sewers  for  what  may  be  washed  away.  A 
capitalist  buys  up  all  the  dust  and  ashes  of  the  city, 
and  they  are  sifted  by  women  so  black  and  grimy, 
that  you  could  scarcely  tell  them  to  be  women  at  all. 

There  is  no  waste  in  London ;  everything  is  picked 
up  and  turned  to  account.  One  man  buys  old  bones; 
another,  old  rags;  another  buys  cigar-ends  for  snuff, 
—  in  short,  there  is  nothing  so  mean  or  filthy  but  is 
made  merchandise  by  the  poor  of  London.  One  man 
advertises  for  old  postage-stamps  that  have  been  used, 
on  the  pretence  that  some  crusty  old  parent  will  not 
let  his  daughter  marry  till  she  has  collected  a  million. 
5 


66  THE   UNFINISHED   GENTLEMAN. 

The  pretence  is  a  hoax;  the  old  stamps  are  pasted 
together,  and  in  some  of  the  obscure  parts  of  the 
town  are  offered  you  at  a  reduced  price.  The  post- 
office  authorities  have  issued  a  new  pattern  of  stamp, 
because  nearly  one-third  received  had  been  cancelled 
and  renewed.  There  are  five  or  six  hundred  boys  and 
girls  called  "  mud  larks,"  who  live  by  searching  the  mud 
of  the  Thames  for  bones,  coals,  and  other  articles.  You 
often  see  men  who  may  be  called  "  Jack-of-all-trades," 
who  run  "  herrands,"  "  'old  yer  'oss,"  —  reminding  you 
of  Billy  Downey,  in  the  "Unfinished  Gentleman," 
who  sold  clothes-props  and  pins.  Then  in  the  literary 
line,  carrying  round  newspapers,  spreading  knowl- 
edge and  information.  Then  in  the  "  wagabone  "  line, 
a  "  hactor,"  performing  the  "  'ind  legs  of  the  helephant 
fifty-three  successful  nights,"  till  the  chap  "  vot  done 
the  forelegs "  and  he  happened  to  get  into  a  fight 
"  vile  they  vos  hin  the  helephant;"  and  the  "conse- 
kens  vos,  they  hupset  the  'ole  concern,"  and  in  course 
he  got  the  bag  from  the  theatre;  and  now  he  "'olds 
'osses,  runs  herrands,  blacks  boots,"  and  makes  him- 
self generally  useful. 

Not  long  since,  some  children  were  poisoned  by 
drinking  some  belladonna.  It  appears  they  had  stolen 
it  out  of  a  case  in  the  street  off  Covent  Garden,  had 
put  it  in  a  bottle  with  water,  and  sold  it  to  other  chil- 
dren at  a  pin  for  a  spoonful,  thinking  the  belladonna 
was  Spanish  liquorice;  and  in  this  way  had  carried  on 
an  active  business. 

Some  of  these  little  arabs  are  too  restless  and  irri- 
table to  be  easily  reclaimed ;  the  monotony  of  decent 
life  is  almost  insupportable.  If  you  reclaim  them, 
many  will  contrive  to  get  away  again. 

A  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Driver,  who  had  been 


TEASING    POLICEMEN.  67 

for  years  engaged  in  endeavoring  to  reclaim  these 
little  urchins,  says  that  on  one  occasion  he  met  some 
of  them,  all  dirt  and  rags,  near  the  Kelson  Monu- 
ment. Said  he :  "I  addressed  myself  principally  to 
one  boy,  whom  some  time  before  I  had  pulled  from 
underneath  a  tarpaulin  in  Covent  Garden  Market  in 
the  middle  of  a  winter's  night.  He  had  been  twice 
imder  my  care  for  short  periods,  but  gave  the  prefer- 
ence to  a  street  life.  I  said,  *  Well,  Jim,  are  you  not 
tired  of  this  sort  of  life?  '  'No,'  he  answered  with  a 
grin,  '  not  yet ;  and  when  I  am,  sir,  I  will  come  to 
you.'  'Very  well,'  I  replied;  'I  suppose  you  will 
have  your  game  out  first.'  '  Now,  sir,  I'll  tell  you 
the  real  truth.  I'd  come  to  you  to-morrow,  if  you'd 
give  me  an  ounce  of  'bacca  a  week,  some  ha'pence  in 
my  pocket  to  spend,  and  an  hour's  holiday  every  day ; 
it  would  not  be  worth  my  while  to  do  it  under  that  — 
it  would  not,  indeed,  sir! ' 

All  these  ragged  urchins  have  an  object  —  and,  I 
fear,  but  one  object  —  of  terror,  and  that  is  a  police- 
man. They  will  teach  their  dogs  to  bark  furiously  at 
the  word  "  Bobby "  or  "  Peeler."  They  will  tease 
them  in  all  possible  ways.  A  policeman  brought  a 
boy  before  a  magistrate  on  a  charge  of  insulting  him. 
"What  did  he  say  to  you?"  "  Oh,  he  said  nothing 
to  me."  "What  did  he  do?"  "Well,  he  pointed  at 
me,  and  asked  another  boy  if  he  ever  see  a  rabbit-pie 
made  out  of  mutton."  "  Oh,  I  cannot  entertain  such 
a  charge  as  that."  At  every  accident  to  a  policeman 
their  delight  is  uncontrollable.  "Jem,  hi!  Look 
'ere !  come  'ere !  sitch  a  lark !  Hooray !  Oh  my !  'ere's 
a  perleeceman  fell  down  on  a  slide !  Hooray ! !  " 

To  a  flashily  dressed  snob  they  are  very  provoking. 
"  Oh  my !  hi !  there  goes  eightpence  out  of  a  sbil- 


68  TUKNXNTG  A  PENNTT. 

ling !  "  If  on  horseback,  so  much  the  worse.  "  Hi 
there!  you'll  tumble  off  the  shop-board!  "  If  he  is  a 
timid  rider,  "Billy,  see,  'ere's  a  swell;  let's  frighten 
'is  'oss!  " 

As  witty  a  thing  as  I  ever  heard,  was  a  remark 
made  by  one  boy  to  another,  as  a  showily  dressed 
person  passed,  evidently  vain  of  his  appearance: 
"Hi!  'ow  does  that  'ere  chap's  hat  stay  up,  without 
nothing  hunder  it?  "  Ask  this  ragged  little  wretch, 
"  Can  you  read?  "  "No;  but  I  can  stand  on  my  'ed 
and  drink  a  glass  of  gin."  A  judicious  old  lady  said, 
when  a  boy  accosted  her  with  "  Stand  on  my  'ed, 
ma'am,  for  a  penny,"  "  No,  little  boy;  there's  a  penny 
for  keeping  right  side  upwards."  Another  boy, — 
"  Now,  my  little  man,  what  would  you  say,  if  I 
should  give  you  a  penny?"  "Vy,  that  you  vas  a 
jolly  old  brick."  "  Punch  "  gives  some  very  graphic 
descriptions  of  this  class  of  boys. 

A  stroll  through  the  streets  amazes  you  at  the  vari- 
ety of  methods  for  "  turning  a  penny."  Everything  is 
a  penny,  —  cigar  lights,  pencils,  sham  jewelry,  ingen- 
ious puzzles,  and  very  questionable  publications,  which 
yield  enormous  profits,  one  of  them  realizing  for  the 
ignoble  owner  many  thousands  a  year.  At  one  time 
it  is  the  "  Devil "  that  is  put  for  sale  at  the  price  of 
one  penny;  at -another,  "London  Life,"  "London 
Gossip,"  or  "  Town  Talk."  There  is  also  always  a 
great  sale  of  prints  and  photographs,  all  at  one  penny. 
The  run  on  the  evening  papers  —  particularly  when 
there  has  been  a  sensational  murder,  or  a  divorce  case 
with  spicy  details  —  is  immense;  and  as  edition  after 
edition  is  worked  off,  the  streets  are  filled  with  men 
and  women,  lads  and  girls,  offering  them  for  sale.  In 
this  way  a  good  deal  of  money  is  made,  especially  by 


"MATRIMONIAL  NEWS."  69 

the  venders  who  manage  to  get  first  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Exchange  and  the  Mansion  House,  and 
thus  reach  a  class  of  customers  who  are  not  particular 
in  the  matter  of  change.  Unprotected  females,  as 
they  walk  down  Cheapside,  are  exceedingly  annoyed 
by  the  impertinence  of  some  of  these  fellows,  who 
thrust  the  "  Matrimonial  News  "  before  them,  as  they 
bawl  in  stentorian  tones,  "  Want  an  'usband,  marm? 
Lot's  of  'usbands  to  be  had.  Only  a  penny ! " 

One  thing  to  be  noted  is  the  temporary  character 
of  these  penny  salable  articles.  Some  are  to  be  met 
with  all  the  year  round,  such  as  studs,  cigar  lights, 
pocket-books,  diaries,  almanacs,  beetles  (which,  at- 
tached to  an  india-rubber  string,  dance  about  as  if 
they  were  alive),  india-rubber  balls,  specimens  of 
geology,  steel  pens,  note-paper,  German  toys,  refresh- 
ing drinks,  bird-whistles,  &c.  Others  are  dependent 
on  the  season,  and  you  get  wonderful  flowers,  —  ca- 
mellias made  of  turnips, —  apples,  pears,  oranges,  wal- 
nuts, and  slices  of  pineapple;  and  the  costermongers 
who  thus  cater  for  the  million  are  indeed  a  blessing, 
as  they  supply  the  poor  of  the  metropolis  with  cheap 
fruit.  In  the  summer  you  have  the  retailer  of  sherbet 
and  the  penny  ice  and  shell-fish;  in  the  winter  the 
same  man  deals  in  roasted  chestnuts  or  baked  pota- 
toes, or  keeps  a  coffee-stall.  All  the  year  round, 
some  enterprising  individuals  supply  the  public,  who 
need  to  have  their  blood  purified,  with  penny  sarsa- 
parilla  drinks. 

When  Lord  Beaconsfield  came  back  from  the  Ber- 
lin Congress,  there  was  a  card  hawked  about  called 
the  "  European  Mystery,"  and  the  puzzle  was  to  find 
Lord  Beaconsfield  in  the  picture. 

One  of  the  most  curious  eiforts  I  heard  of  in  Lon- 


70  ADVERTISING  DODGE. 

don  for  "raising  the  wind"  was  the  "Continental 
Advertising  Refreshment  Plate  Company,"  the  aim 
of  which  was,  to  distribute  neatly  designed  adver- 
tisements on  the  rims  of  refreshment  plates,  dishes, 
saucers,  &c.,  made  of  porcelain,  china,  earthenware, 
or  other  material,  among  the  different  hotels  and 
cafes  and  restaurants  in  the  various  cities  and  towns 
of  France  and  Belgium.  It  was  reckoned  this  was 
to  be  the  cheapest  way  of  advertising  ever  known; 
and  to  carry  it  out  only  £5,000  were  asked,  which 
the  promoters,  however,  probably  failed  to  obtain,  as 
the  company  was  never  started. 


CHAPTER  IY. 

HIGH   AND   LOW  LIFE   IN  LONDON.  —  CABMEN  AND 
COCKNEYS. 


Cabmen  of  London:  their  Great  Number  —  "Exact  Fare"  —  "I  shan't 
forget  the  Phiz  "  —  A  Dandy  discomfited  —  Wealth  of  London  — 
Men  who  have  risen  —  "  Cats'  -Meat  "  —  Where  the  Dead  Horses 
go  —  Fortunes  by  Sharp  Practice  —  Roguery  reduced  to  a  System  — 
The  Wine  Business  —  Tricks  of  Trade  —  High  Art  —  Auctioneers 

—  Jockeyism  and  Horses  —  Bought    his    Own  Horse  —  Londoner's 
Self-Esteem  —  "  Connoisseurship  in  Wines  "  —  Tricks  of  Professional 
Beggars  —  The   Blind  Man   who  could    see  —  "  Eddicatin'  Dogs  " 

—  The  Lord  Mayor's  Show  —  Hardships  of  the   Lord  Mayor's  Office 

—  "Who  is  He?"  —  Self-made  Men  —  Lord  Rothschild's  Remark  on 
"  Selling  Matches  "  —  Schools  of    the    Corporation  —  Disrespectful 
Children  —  "'Ow  is  yer  'Elth?"  —  Inconvenience  of  the  Letter  H. 

—  The  Gentleman's  Story  —  Meeting  with  an   "Hawful  Hend  "  — 
Dilemma  of  the  Alderman's  Daughter  —  The  Omnibus  Conductor's 
Vocabulary,   ...........     71 


is  no  class  of  men  less  under- 
stood  than  the  cabmen  of  London. 
The  general  verdict  is,  "  Oh,  they'll 
overcharge  and  bully  you  whenever 
they  get  a  chance."  Not  more  than 
the  hackrnen  of  New  York.  It  is  to 
be  expected  that,  among  twelve  thou- 
sand or  more  men,  with  few  advantages 
and  constant  exposure,  meeting  and  dealing 
with  all  shades  of  character,  that  there  will  be  some 
hard  cases,  and  a  good  many.  But  in  my  experi- 
ence, with  only  a  few  exceptions,  I  have  found  them 

71 


72  "YOU  AIN'T  SENT  THEM  OATS." 

civil,  and  nearly  always  grateful  for  liberal  treatment. 
To  the  screw  who  will  pay  them  the  "  exact  fare  "  — 
and  there  are  many  who  pride  themselves  on  always 
paying  the  "exact  fare"  of  one  shilling  with  two 
persons  for  a  two-miles'  ride  —  they  sometimes  give  a 
little  chaffing.  One  of  this  class,  who  had  paid  the 
"  exact  fare,"  was  asked,  "  Beg  pardon,  but  are  you 
all  pretty  much  alike  in  your  family,  sir?  "  "  Well, 
yes,  a  little  so."  "  Oh,  all  right;  I  shan't  forget  the 
phiz,  and  blowed  if  any  of  you  will  ride  in  my  cab 
again."  On  one  occasion  two  ladies  had  paid  the 
shilling  for  the  two  miles,  with  one  fourpenny-bit, 
two  threepenny-pieces,  one  penny,  and  two  halfpence : 
cabby  looked  at  the  coins,  and  turning  them  over  in 
his  hand,  said  very  insinuatingly,  "  Well,  how  long 
might  you  have  been  saving  up  for  this  little  treat?  " 
They  can  discover  the  weak  points  in  any  they  choose 
to  chaff:  as,  when  an  exquisite  dandy  had  handed  two 
ladies  into  a  cab,  and  drawled  out,  "  Dwivah,  dwive 
these  ladies  to  44  Manchester  Square, — just  two 
miles,  —  and  here's  the  shilling,"  cabby  said,  "All 
right;  but,  I  say,  mister,  you  ain't  sent  them  oats 
round  to  our  place  yet,  that  we  ordered ; "  which  took 
him  down  most  essentially.  "  Punch "  gives  some 
capital  hits  at,  and  illustrations  of  the  peculiarities  of 
the  cabmen. 

The  wealth  of  London  is  enormous,  and  the  for- 
tunes accumulated  are  in  their  extent  bewildering; 
yet  many  of  the  wealthy  men  in  London  have  risen 
from  obscurity.  A  certain  late  Lord  Mayor,  when  a 
boy,  swept  the  office  of  which  he  became  the  head. 
There  was  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  a  man  of 
wealth,  who  once  cleaned  the  shoes  of  one  of  his 
constituents.  As  you  walk  along  Cheapside,  you  see 


CATS'  MEAT.  73 

warehouses  of  vast  extent,  filled  with  the  costliest 
productions;  the  owners  of  many  of  these  places  live 
in  magnificent  villas,  yet  some  of  them  came  penni- 
less to  London.  It  is  stated  that  Lindsay,  the  well- 
known  ship-owner,  was  a  wretched,  half-starved  boy 
in  Liverpool.  Johnson  Fox,  who  became  the  mem- 
ber for  Oldham,  was  a  Norwich  weaver-boy.  The 
late  chairman  of  the  Oriental  Steam  Navigation 
Company  was  a  poor  Highland  laddie.  I  have 
heard  John  Cassell,  the  publisher,  say  that  he  came 
to  London  with  three  halfpence  in  his  pocket ;  and  he 
died  leaving  a  splendid  business.  I  suppose,  from 
the  days  of  Whittington,  such  cases  have  been  fre- 
quent. 

In  America  we  know  that  very  many  of  our  rich 
men  rose  from  obscurity  and  poverty;  but  the  oppor- 
tunities and  advantages  for  such  a  rise  are  a  hundred- 
fold greater  here  than  in  England.  Princely  fortunes 
are  made  by  trifles  in  London,  as  well  as  in  New 
York.  Out  of  the  profits  of  his  Vegetable  Pills, 
Morrison  purchased  a  splendid  estate;  Holloway,  of 
the  world-renowned  Ointment,  drove  in  one  of  the 
handsomest  "  turn-outs  "  you  will  meet  in  the  Strand. 
I  was  once  riding  in  the  suburbs,  when  one  of  the 
prettiest  country  houses  I  ever  saw  was  pointed  out 
to  me;  the  grounds  were  laid  out,  and  the  very  rails 
of  the  iron  fence  were  gilt.  I  was  told  that  the  pro- 
prietor was  actually  *a  dealer  in  "  cats'  meat."  He 
bought  up  old,  sick,  or  dead  horses,  and  I  assure  you 
he  made  the  most  of  them.  I  was  informed  that  he 
cut  up  the  flesh  for  "cats' meat;"  that,  besides  the 
hair  and  hide  and  bones,  —  the  uses  of  which  we  can 
all  understand,  —  the  nostrils  and  hoofs  were  used  for 
gelatine,  and  the  blood  was  employed  in  the  manu- 


74  SYSTEMATIC   SWINDLING. 

• 

facture  of  ketchup,  to  which  it  is  supposed  to  impart 
a  delicious  flavor;  the  livers  were  burned,  to  be 
mixed  with  coffee.  So  we  see  a  great  deal  can  be 
made  of  a  dead  horse. 

There,  as  here,  fortunes  are  sometimes  made  by 
sharp  practice.  An  intelligent  lawyer  once  said  that 
he  did  not  believe  there  was  such  a  thing  as  commer- 
cial morality  at  all  —  altogether  a  too  sweeping  asser- 
tion; but  there  is  an  enormous  amount  of  unfair 
dealing,  in  adulteration  and  various  other  methods  of 
dishonesty.  The  Bankruptcy  Court  has  developed 
an  immense  amount  of  villany.  The  number  of 
those  who  live  by  rascality  is  very  great,  and  astound- 
ing disclosures  are  made  of  the  almost  perfect  system 
by  which  their  roguery  is  accomplished.  There  are 
no  limits  to  the  tricks  and  deceptions  of  trade.  In 
one  shop  there  is  a  sale  going  on  at  an  enormous 
sacrifice,  —  but  the  purchaser,  not  the  seller,  makes 
it;  in  another,  new  goods  are  sold  as  second-hand. 
This  is  a  favorite  and  very  successful  trick  with  the 
pawnbrokers.  But  of  the  wines,  the  pictures,  I  can 
hardly  trust  myself  to  speak.  The  wine,  when  it  is 
brought  into  England,  and  before  it  is  taken  to  the 
wine-merchant's  cellar  and  pays  duty,  is  kept  in  the 
docks.  It  undergoes  a  wonderful  transformation.  In 
one  case,  some  wine  deposited  as  very  superior  sherry 
was  found  to  have  been  transmogrified  into  very  fine 
old  port.  In  another  case,  some  wine  that  had  been 
in  the  dock  a  few  years,  in  spite  of  leakage  and  what 
had  been  subtracted  for  samples,  had  in  a  most  re- 
markable manner  increased  in  bulk.  I  saw  an  account 
of  an  action  in  which  it  came  out  that  a  man  had 
contracted  to  turn  a  certain  quantity  of  British  wine 
into  genuine  sherry. 


HORSE   TRADES.  75 

As  to  pictures,  the  mock-auction  in  which  paint- 
ings —  not  by  the  old  masters  —  are  sold,  is  generally 
held  in  some  leading  thoroughfare.  The  auctioneer  is 
well  dressed,  facetious,  fluent,  and  well  up  in  the  slang 
of  art;  he  can  talk  of  the  tone  of  this  picture  and 
the  coloring  of  the  other,  of  the  chiar-oscuro,  &c. 
The  verdant  provincial  steps  in,  and  sees  what  he 
believes  to  be  a  genuine  picture  worth  hundreds 
going  for  as  many  pounds ;  he  bids,  and  immediately 
there  is  a  furious  competition.  Around  him  are  con- 
federates, whom  he  imagines  to  be  strangers  like 
himself:  they  bid  against  him;  he  becomes  excited, 
and  finds  himself  the  possessor  of  a  copy  worth  but 
little. 

It  is  the  same  with  other  auctions ;  where  the  stran- 
ger sees  the  bidders  quarrel,  and  the  auctioneer  re- 
fuses to  interfere,  he  thinks  the  sale  must  be  genuine, 
and  buys  —  his  belief  to  the  contrary  —  at  a  costly 
rate. 

The  deceptions  in  the  horse-trade  are  still  bolder 
and  more  ingenious.  Very  often  a  man  does  not 
know  his  own  horse  when  he  gets  it  into  the  dealer's 
hands.  I  have  heard  of  cases  in  which  a  man  has 
unknowingly  bought  back  a  horse,  at  a  high  figure, 
which  he  had  previously  disposed  of  as  almost  worth- 
less. You  read  in  the  "  Times "  (and  whenever  a 
Londoner  wants  to  know  where  to  buy  anything,  he 
is  sure  to  look  in  the  advertising  columns  of  the 
"  Times  ")  that  a  horse,  quiet  to  ride  and  drive,  the 
property  of  a  gentleman  who  has  no  further  use  for 
him,  is  to  be  parted  with;  you  are  referred  to  a  cer- 
tain livery  stable;  you  see  the  animal,  as  strong  and 
showy  a  beast  as  you  can  possibly  desire;  indeed,  it 
is  vamped  and  doctored  in  a  wonderful  manner;  if 


76  CONNOISSEURS   IN  WINE. 

slow,  it  is  made  to  run  fast,  if  lame,  to  walk;  the 
horse  strikes  you  as  like  Barry  Cornwall's  Gamana  — 

"  Strong,  black,  and  of  the  desert  breed, 
Full  of  fire  and  full  of  bone, 
All  his  line  of  fathers  known ; 
Fine  his  nose,  his  nostrils  thin, 
But  blown  abroad  by  the  pride  within ; 
His  mane  a  stormy  river  flowing, 
And  his  eyes  like  embers  glowing 
In  the  darkness  of  the  night ; 
And  his  pace  as  swift  as  light." 

While  you  are  admiring  this  creature  of  man's  in- 
genuity, a  groom  in  livery  comes  into  the  yard  for 
some  well-known  nobleman,  or  public  character  anx- 
ious to  secure  this  horse  at  any  price;  but  the  dealer 
has  offered  him  to  you,  and  he  won't  deviate  from  his 
word.  You  buy  the  animal,  and,  when  you  get  him 
home,  you  find  oat  your  mistake.  Sometimes  the 
confederate  is  a  commercial  traveller:  he  happens  to 
come  into  the  yard  just  as  you  are  examining  the 
horse;  he  seems  so  respectable  a  man,  and  so  fond  of 
his  horse,  and  so  reluctant  to  part  with  it,  that  you 
are  completely  thrown  off  your  guard. 

The  Londoner  of  a  certain  class,  however,  is  never 
deprived  of  his  self-esteem;  he  is  a  judge  of  every- 
thing; especially  he  prides  himself  on  being  a  judge 
of  wine,  spirits,  and  porter.  I  give  you  a  fact.  Three 
gentlemen  were  dining  together  at  the  house  of  one 
of  them,  and  after  dinner  a  bottle  of  claret  was  pro- 
duced. The  connoisseurs  turned  up  their  noses,  and 
declared  it  would  not  do.  Their  host  was  very  sorry; 
apologized;  said  he  would  give  them  a  bottle  of  a 
better  sort:  he  stepped  down  into  his  cellar,  and, 
without  their  knowledge,  gave  them  a  bottle  of  the 
same  kind.  "Ah ! "  said  the  connoisseurs,  "  that  is 


THEODORE   HOOK.  77 

beautiful;  that  has  the  real  bouquet;  that  is  the  real 
thing !  "  So  much  for  connoisseurship  in  wine.  Every 
London  tavern-keeper  could  tell  scores  of  similar 
tales.  A  great  judge  of  wine,  a  nobleman,  had  placed 
before  him  a  bottle  of  champagne  and  a  bottle  of 
gooseberry  wine.  The  noble  lord  was  requested  to 
judge  which  was  the  genuine  article.  He,  after  much 
consideration,  gave  the  preference  to  the  gooseberry 
wine.  In  England,  at  dinner  time,  when  wine  is 
served  at  table,  the  custom  was  for  one  gentleman  to 
say  to  another,  or  to  a  lady,  "  Sir,  (or  madam,)  may 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  taking  a  glass  of  wine  with 
you?"  "  With  pleasure."  The  glasses  are  then  filled, 
and,  as  they  drink,  they  look  at  each  other  and  bow. 
Theodore  Hook  was  once  observed,  during  a  dinner 
at  Hatfield  House,  nodding  like  a  Chinese  mandarin 
in  a  tea-shop.  On  being  asked  the  reason,  he  said, 
"When  no  one  asks  me,  I  take  sherry  with  the 
epergne,  and  bow  to  the  flowers." 

As  I  am  speaking  of  drinking,  I  would  here  refer 
to  the  celebrated  "  whitebait,"  —  a  sound  very  musical 
to  Cockney  ears.  To  the  large  taverns  at  Blackwall 
and  Greenwich  gourmands  flock  to  eat  "  whitebait," 
—  a  delicious  little  fish  caught  in  the  reach  of  the 
Thames,  and  directly  netted  out  of  the  river  into  the 
frying-pan.  They  appear  about  the  end  of  March, 
or  early  in  April,  and  are  taken  every  flood-tide  till 
September.  The  fashion  of  eating  them  is  sanctioned 
by  the  highest  authority,  from  the  Court  of  St.  James 
in  the  west,  to  the  Court  of  the  Lord  Mayor  in  the 
east.  The  Cabinet  winds  up  the  parliamentary  ses- 
sion with  an  annual  whitebait  dinner,  to  which  they 
go  in  an  ordnance  barge  or  government  steamer. 
Whitebait  are  eaten  with  lemon  and  brown  bread  and 


7o  FASHIONABLE   ECONOMY. 

butter.  I  believe  that,  after  all,  there  is  not  much  in 
them,  but  that  gentlemen  make  a  whitebait  dinner  an 
excuse  for  a  run  out  of  town,  little  bit  of  holiday,  and 
for  drinking  champagne  and  iced  punch. 

London  is  not  a  cheap  place  to  live  in;  yet  an 
economical  man,  I  believe,  may  live  as  cheaply  there 
as  in  any  city  in  the  world.  He  may  read  all  the 
newspapers  and  magazines  for  a  penny;  he  may  pass 
the  day  in  exhibitions  and  museums  without  spending 
a  farthing;  he  may  find  a  decent  bedroom  for  five 
shillings  a  week,  and  may  dine  comfortably  for  a  shil- 
ling. Mr.  Wellesley  Pole  used  to  say  it  was  impos- 
sible to  live  in  England  under  £4,000  a  year.  Mr. 
Brummel  told  a  lady  of  rank,  who  asked  him  how 
much  she  ought  to  allow  her  son  for  dress,  that  it 
might  be  done  for  £800  a  year,  with  strict  economy. 
Mr.  Senior,  in  an  article  in  the  "  Encyclopedia  Met- 
ropolitana,"  stated  that  a  carriage  for  a  woman  of 
fashion  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  necessaries  of 
life ;  and  every  young  swell  must  have  his  brougham, 
his  man,  and  his  own  establishment.  But  a  great 
deal  is  done  on  credit.  "  What  a  clever  man  my  son 
is !  "  said  an  English  gentleman,  speaking  of  the  well- 
known  Tom  Duncombe.  "  I  allow  him  £300  a  year, 
and  he  spends  £3,000!" 

The  tricks  of  the  professional  beggars  are  almost 
inconceivable.  They  will  simulate  every  disease  under 
the  sun.  Sometimes  they  are  thrown  off  their  guard. 
A  man  was  standing  with  a  board  in  front  of  him, 
with  the  inscription,  "  I  am  blind,"  when  a  gentleman 
threw  a  shilling  on  the  ground:  the  blind  man  in- 
stantly picked  it  up.  The  gentleman  said,  "  Why,  I 
thought  you  were  blind."  The  fellow,  after  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  looked  at  his  board,  and  then  said, 


"I   EDDICATE   DOGS."  79 

"  I'm  blessed  if  they  haven't  made  a  mistake,  and  put 
a  wrong  board  on  me  this  morning!  I'm  deaf  and 
dumb!"  A  man,  being  led  by  a  dog,  was  accosted 
by  a  policeman :  "  You're  not  blind."  "  Yell,  vot  if 
I  ain't?  "  "  What  are  you  going  through  the  streets 
for  with  that  dog?  "  "  Yy,  Lor'  bless  ye,  I  eddicate 
dogs  for  blind  men." 

I  must  say  a  word  or  two  about  the  Lord  Mayor, 
and  the  Lord  Mayor's  Show,  which  I  saw  during  my 
recent  visit,  and  which  seemed  to  me  more  popular 
than  ever,  and  about  as  silly.  For  the  day,  business 
is  almost  suspended.  At  an  early  hour  the  leading 
streets  are  closed  to  traffic;  the  shop-windows  are 
filled  with  young  people  and  their  papas  and  mammas 
and  older  relatives.  The  streets  are  crowded  \vith 
spectators  all  the  way  from  the  city  to  Westminster 
Hall,  where  the  Lord  Mayor  is  officially  introduced  to 
the  judges,  and  invites  them  to  dinner.  I  suppose 
a  million  of  people  come  to  see  the  Lord  Mayor's 
Show,  which  returns  by  the  Thames  Embankment  — 
a  famous  place  for  a  crowd,  and  where  generally,  in 
spite  of  the  police,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  horse-play 
on  such  occasions,  as  it  is  there  the  riffraff  of  the 
metropolis  love  to  meet.  The  Lord  Mayor  of  Lou- 
don,  for  the  time  being,  is  the  first  man  in  the  city; 
and  by  the  city  I  mean  the  busy  hive  of  industry  de- 
voted entirely  to  business,  in  which  few  people  live, 
situated  between  what  was  known  as  Aldgate  Pump, 
in  the  east,  and  Temple  Bar,  in  the  west.  He  has 
usually  a  hard  life  of  it,  as  for  the  year  of  office  he  is 
chairman  of  almost  everything  that  goes  on  in  the 
city;  even  his  Sundays  he  cannot  call  his  own,  as  on 
that  day  he  is  generally  expected  to  attend,  in  state, 
some  city  church  on  the  occasion  of  a  charity  sermon. 


00  LORD   MAYOR   OF   LONDON". 

He  has  the  Mansion  House  to  live  in,  and  has  some 
twelve  thousand  pounds  allowed  him  to  spend,  which 
he  generally  spends,  and  often  a  good  deal  more.  I 
have  been  informed  that  he  gives  a  bond  of  £4,000 
for  the  plate.  He  is  much  thought  of  in  foreign 
parts  —  more  than  in  London,  where  it  is  the  fashion 
of  the  great  city  merchants  to  look  down  upon  the 
corporation,  and  where  the  city  is,  as  regards  size  and 
population,  such  a  small  section  of  the  great  metrop- 
olis itself;  but  to  the  eyes  of  foreigners,  the  Lord 
Mayor  of  London  is  a  mighty  personage  in'deed. 

Earl  Russell  told  Lord  Albemarle  that  when,  as 
a  young  man,  the  late  Lord  Romilly  visited  Paris, 
at  a  time  when  he  was  giving  promise  of  making  a 
figure  at  the  English  bar,  some  French  friend  said  to 
him,  "  To  what  dignities  may  you  not  aspire !  You 
may  become  Lord  Chancellor;  wTho  knows?  even," 
he  added,  "  Lord  Mayor  of  London ! "  Twice  the 
Lord  Mayor  has  paid  the  French  metropolis  a  visit, 
and  on  each  time  great  was  the  sensation  he  pro- 
duced. On  the  first  occasion,  —  that  is,  after  the 
Exhibition  of  1851,  —  the  "Journal  des  Debats  "  ob- 
served that  his  "  physiognomy  implied  deference  and 
respect."  Another  spoke  of  his  appearance  as  indi- 
cating the  possession  of  good  and  loyal  sentiments. 
As  the  municipal  procession  made  its  way  through 
the  streets,  the  "  gamins "  in  the  crowd  shouted,  "A 
bas  V aristocrat"  There  was  one  person,  however, 
whom  all  conspired  to  honor,  and  that  was  the  Lord 
Mayor's  coachman,  in  his  state  livery,  all  gold  and 
silver,  silk  and  velvet.  I  suppose  he  is  more  orna- 
mental than  useful,  as  the  grand  grooms  on  each  side 
of  the  six  horses  take  care  that  they  shall  go  right ; 
but  he  is  a  sight,  with  his  gold  cap  and  grand  bouquet 


MAKING  A  FORTUNE.  81 

of  costly  flowers,  his  silk  stockings,  and  his  shoes 
with  silver  buckles,  his  scarlet  face,  —  for  he  is  gen- 
erally what  is  called  a  good  liver,  though  his  own 
liver  may  be  ever  so  bad.  "  Who  is  he?  "  anxiously 
asked  the  French,  as  he  passed  along.  The  reply  of 
one,  who  appeared  to  be  —  or  pretended  to  be  — 
better  informed  than  the  rest,  was,  that  he  was  the 
Lord  Mayor's  chief  chasseur,  who  attended  his  lord- 
ship on  all  his  hunting  expeditions  !  I  can  assure 
you  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London  finds  very  little  time 
to  go  a-hunting,  even  if  he  had  the  inclination  and 
the  means.  Many  of  the  Lord  Mayors  are  self-made 
men,  and  began  the  world  quite  low  in  the  social 
scale.  In  all  England,  as  everywhere  else,  "  it  is  the 
hand  of  the  diligent  that  maketh  rich ; "  and  the 
people  who  begin  the  world  with  half  a  crown  in 
their  pockets,  and  so  make  a  fortune,  are  almost  as 
plentiful  in  London  as  they  are  in  America,  or  any- 
where else,  and  deserve  as  much  credit,  if  obtained 
honestly. 

One  day,  a  lady  who  was  seated  next  to  the  great 
Rothschild  at  a  dinner  party,  kept  tormenting  him  by 
asking  what  business  she  should  put  her  son  to,  in 
order  to  make  a  fortune.  "  Madam,"  was  the  reply, 
"  selling  matches  is  a  good  business  if  you  sell  enough 
of  them."  And  so  it  is.  Only  a  year  or  two  ago, 
there  died  in  the  city  of  London,  a  Jew  who  was 
worth  a  million  at  the  time  of  his  decease.  He  began 
with  lucifer  matches,  thence  he  went  on  to  pencils, 
and  so  on  till  he  got  into  the  wool  trade,  and  died 
rich,  as  I  have  said.  It  is  from  such  men  as  these 
that  the  ranks  of  the  Lord  Mayors  of  London  are 
recruited. 

There  are  many  schools  in  and  about  London,  be- 
6 


82  "'ow  is  YER  'ELTH?" 

longing  to  the  great  city  companies,  under  the  patron- 
age of  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen,  who  visit  them 
on  the  occasion  of  the  distribution  of  prizes.  I  have 
been  told  that  it  is  occasionally  quite  amusing,  after  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  his  friends  have  left,  when  the  cere- 
mony is  over,  to  find  the  scholars  —  especially  the  girls 
—  taking  off  the  defects  of  their  illustrious  visitors, 
saying  to  one  another,  "  'Ow  is  yer  'elth  ?  "  "  Give 
us  yer  'and."  I  am  told  that  such  is  a  fact  often  tak- 
ing place,  and  will  be,  till  the  corporation  of  London 
is  reformed,  and  Lord  Mayors  are  elected  by  a  wider 
mass  of  citizens,  and  not  as  now  by  a  mere  handful. 

It  is  really  comical  the  work  the  cockneys  make 
with  the  letter  h  ;  not  only  the  cockneys,  but  many  in 
other  parts  of  the  province.  I  was  once  at  a  gentle- 
man's house,  surrounded  with  all  that  wealth  could 
procure,  —  pictures,  plate,  an  elegant  residence,  — 
and  the  gentleman  said  to  me,  "  He  met  with  an 
hawful  hend;  he  was  riding  near  the  railway,  and  'is 
'orse  threw  'im  hover  'is  ?ed,  and  the  hengine  run 
hover  'im,  and  mashed  'im  to  hattoms." 

I  was  told  that  not  long  since  a  London  alderman 
gave  a  grand  garden  party  at  his  beautiful  seat  in  the 
picturesque  village  of  Highgate,  where  Coleridge 
lived,  and  where  Lady  Burdett  Coutts  now  lives. 
The  Alderman  had  a  handsome  daughter,  who,  when 
taken  out  to  lunch  by  a  "West  End  swell,  quite  per- 
plexed him  by  innocently  asking  him,  "  Do  you  think 
I  get  pretty? "  She  was  thinking  of  "  Highgate," 
and  not  of  herself." 

I  heard  of  an  omnibus  conductor  that  was  calling 
out, — 

"  'Ere  ye  are,  'ighgate,  'ighgate ;  hall  for  'ighgate." 

Some  one  said,  — 


"'A'-PEKNY  A  MILE."  83 

"  You've  dropped  something." 

"  Yot  'ave  I  dropped?" 

"  Only  some  H's." 

"  Oh!  that's  nothing;  I'll  pick  'em  up  ven  I  gets  to 
jETislington." 

Two  costers  were  looking  at  a  railway  time-table. 

"  Say,  Jem,"  said  one  of  them,  "  vot's  P.  M. 
mean?  " 

"  ^y>  penny  a  mile,  to  be  sure." 

"Yell,  vot's  A.M.?" 

"  'A'-penny  a  mile,  to  be  sure ! " 


CHAPTER  Y. 

JUSTICE   AND  INJUSTICE.  —  SCENES  IN  THE  CRIMINAL 
COURTS   OF   LONDON. 

The  Old  Bailey — A  Complete  Establishment — "Tried  in  Dra wing- 
Room  ;  hanged  in  Back  Kitchen  "  —  A  Criminal  Trial,  a  Sensation 
Drama  —  Waiting  for  the  Verdict  —  Atmosphere  of  the  Dock  — 
Crime  shown  in  the  Face  —  The  Ragged  Youth  and  his  Counsel  — 
—  Police  Courts  —  Ludicrous  Scenes  —  Women's  Quarrels  —  "  The 
Love-lorn  Widder  "  —  Supporting  Nine  Children  —  The  Irishman's 
Family  at  the  Bar  —  Disagreeing  Evidence  —  Children  hired  out 
to  Beggars  —  The  Magistrate  and  the  Chimney  Sweep  —  Drunken- 
ness the  Path  to  the  Police  Court — "Taking  in"  People — Bird 
Fanciers  cheated  —  Painted  Sparrows  —  Uncertainty  of  the  Law  — 
The  Thief  and  his  Cherries  —  Barnacles  —  Expense  of  the  Civil 
Service  —  Government  Leeches  —  The  Mysterious  Warning  —  Pre- 
mium on  Idleness  —  "  How  not  to  do  it," 84 

HE  Old  Bailey  is  one  of  the  institu- 
tions of  London,  associated  with  greasy 
squalor,  and  crime  of  every  descrip- 
tion; a  cold,  bleak-looking  prison,  with 
an  awful  little  iron  door,  three  feet  or 
so  from  the  ground.  The  Central 
Criminal  Court  is  "par  excellence  "  the 
criminal  court  of  the  country.  It  is  said 
that  more  innocent  men  are  charged  with 
crime,  and  more  guilty  men  escape,  at  the  Old  Bailey, 
than  at  any  other  court  in  the  kingdom.  It  is  said 
that  the  Old  Bailey  barrister  is  loud  of  voice  and  in- 
solent in  manner.  The  Old  Bailey  is  very  compact. 

84 


THE    OLD   BAILEY.  85 

You  can  be  detained  there  between  the  time  of  your 
committal  and  your  trial;  you  can  be  tried  there, 
sentenced  there,  and  comfortably  hanged  and  buried 
there.  Since  there  are  no  more  public  executions, 
there  is  no  occasion  to  go  outside  the  four  walls;  as 
some  one  has  said,  "  You  are  tried  in  the  drawing- 
room,  confined  in  the  scullery,  and  hanged  in  the 
back  kitchen." 

A  criminal  trial  is  a  fearfully  interesting  sight,  —  a 
real  sensation  drama;  as  the  case  draws  to  a  close,  it 
grows  more  exciting:  the  charge  to  the  jury;  the 
waiting  for  the  verdict;  the  sharp,  anxious  look  the 
prisoner  casts  around  him  as  they  render  the  verdict: 
see  the  compressed  lips  and  contracted  brow,  and 
listen  to  the  great,  deep  sigh  as  he  learns  the  worst! 
Then  the  sentence !  The  silence  is  awful,  —  broken, 
perhaps,  by  a  woman's  shriek;  and  all  is  over,  as  far 
as  the  spectator  is  concerned.  It  is  said  that  the 
atmosphere  of  the  dock  invests  the  very  countenance 
of  one  who  may  happen  to  be  in  it.  A  well-known 
counsel  who  was  defending  a  singularly  ill-favored 
prisoner  said  to  the  jury,  "  Gentlemen,  you  must  not 
allow  yourselves  to  be  carried  away  by  any  effect 
which  the  prisoner's  appearance  may  have  upon  you. 
Remember  he  is  in  the  dock;  and  I  will  undertake  to 
say,  that  if  my  lord  were  to  be  taken  from  the  bench 
and  placed  where  the  prisoner  is  now  standing,  you 
would  find,  even  in  his  lordship's  face,  indications  of 
crime  which  you  would  look  for  in  vain  in  any  other 
situation." 

There  is  a  curious  tale  of  a  youth  whose  ragged 
head  was  frequently  to  be  seen  in  the  dock  of  the 
Old  Bailey.  It  turns  upon  the  affection  of  the  crim- 
inal for  his  pet  counsel,  and  his  utter  dislike  to  be 


86  BOW   STREET   POLICE-OFFICE. 

defended  by  any  one  else.  The  youth  had  appeared 
in  the  dock  after  having  been  at  large  only  a  short 
time,  and  immediately  objected  to  the  case  being  pro- 
ceeded with,  as  he  was  not  properly  represented  by 
counsel.  The  judge  pointed  out  to  him  that  that 
must  not  be  allowed  to  delay  the  trial.  The  pupil  of 
Fagin  replied,  "  That  won't  do,  my  lord;  my  counsel 

is  Mr. ,  (naming  a  well-known  barrister,)  and 

I  cannot  be  tried  without  him."  The  judge  postponed 
the  case  till  the  next  day,  when  the  same  little  scene 
was  enacted,  and  the  young  rogue  maintained  that  he 
had  paid  for  his  counsel,  and  that  he  would  be  de- 
fended by  liim,  and  by  no  one  else.  At  length,  after 
several  similar  delays,  the  case  was  adjourned  until 
the  next  session,  when  the  barrister  whom  the  "young 
gentleman"  had  paid  for  appeared,  and  succeeded  in 
obtaining  an  acquittal. 

In  the  many  police-courts  of  London  are  to  be  wit- 
nessed some  queer  scenes,  and  some  phases  of  human- 
ity that  can  be  seen  nowhere  else.  Go  to  Bow 
Street  or  "Worship  Street;  and  there,  as  has  been  said, 
sits  an  educated  gentleman,  receiving  £1,200  per 
year,  settling  petty  squabbles  between  quarrelsome 
women,  as  part  of  the  duties  of  his  office.  The  most 
ludicrous  scenes  take  place  during  the  testimony. 
Take  the  following  as  recorded.  A  woman  appears 
as  a  complainant  for  an  assault:  the  defendant  is 
placed  in  the  bar. 

His  Worship:  "Well." 

Woman :  "  Please  yer  'onor,  this  woman  at  the  bar, 
if  she  can  call  herself  such  — " 

"  Now,  no  reflection  on  the  defendant,  if  you 
please." 


"MBS.   FINCH   TOLD   ME."  87 

"  Well,  sir,  ever  since  last  Tuesday  week,  come  last 
Christmas  — " 

"  Never  mind  about  Christmas ;  tell  us  what  hap- 
pened." 

"  Please  yer  worship,  she  told  Mr.  Waters  — " 

"  Don't  bother  us  with  what  she  said  to  Mr.  Waters ; 
tell  us  what  she  said  to  you" 

"  Well,  sir,  Mrs.  Finch  told  me  — " 

"  Never  mind  what  Mrs.  Finch  told  you." 

"  Please  yer  worship,  I'm  a  lone,  'lorn  widder,  with- 
out an  'usband  to  pertect  my  character,  and  I  lives  by 
working  'ard  at  the  tub  for  the  support  of  nine  chil- 
dren, four  living  and  five  dead,  and  ever  since  that 
female,"  &c. 

The  magistrate  was  compelled  to  let  her  tell  her 
story  her  own  way. 

Take  another  reported  case.  A  forlorn-looking 
Irishman,  accompanied  by  his  wife  and  two  children, 
is  found  begging,  contrary  to  law.  When  brought 
before  the  magistrate,  they  are  examined  separately, 
the  wife  first,  the  others  being  out  of  the  court. 

"  Now,  my  good  woman,  that's  your  husband,  is 
it?" 

"Yes,  please  yer  'onor;  and  a  honest,  hard-work- 
ing — " 

"  Never  mind  that.  When  were  you  married  to 
him?  " 

"When,  yer  'onor?  Well,  about  twelve  years  ago, 
and  I  — " 

"  Where  did  the  marriage  take  place?  " 

"Did  ye  say  where?  Yes,  sir,  I  think  it  was  in 
Tipperary,  and  hard  work  it  was  — " 

"  What  is  your  husband's  name?  " 

"  His  name,  yer  'onor?    Macarty,  yer  'onor." 


88  "AX  MY  WIFE." 

"  What  was  your  name  before  you  were  married  to 
him?  " 

"  Cromartie,  yer  'onor." 

"Are  these  your  only  children  in  twelve  years?  " 

"  Well,  yer  'onor,  they  are  the  only  darlings  left  to 
us;  or  there  would  have  been  five,  but  for  the  three 
that  were  taken  from  us  by  the  typhus ;  and  a  trouble 
it  was  to  raise  the  money  — " 

"  Call  in  the  man." 

"  What's  your  name?  " 

"  Kelly,  yer  'onor." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  it  was  Macarty." 

"  So  it  is,  yer  'onor ;  I  didn't  know  it  was  my  other 
name  ye  were  axing  for." 

"And  so  this  woman  is  your  wife,  is  she?  " 

"  Yes,  yer  'onor;  and  a  hardworking — " 

"  Wait  a  bit.  What  was  her  name  before  you  were 
married?  " 

"  Well,  yer  'onor,  I  hardly  remember,  for  it  was 
a  long  time  ago." 

"A  long  time  ago?  " 

"  Not  exactly  that;  I  meant  about  seven  years  ago, 
and  it's  a  long  time  to  remember  a  name  that  you  have 
no  further  use  for." 

"  Oh,  then  you've  been  married  seven  years?  " 

"About  that;  but  if  ye'll  ax  my  wife  — " 

"  Where  were  you  married?  " 

"I'm  not  sure,  yer  'onor;  I've  a  bad  memory;  but 
if  ye'll  ax  my  wife  — " 

"  Surely  you  remember  where  you  were  married?  " 

"  Well  then,  I  think  it  was  Dublin,  to  the  best  of 
my  belief." 

"  Then  if  your  wife  said  Cork  — " 

"  Oh,  certainly;  yes,  Cork  it  was." 


"I'M  NO  SCHOLAR."  89 

"  How  many  children  have  you?  " 

"  There  is  the  two  darlings  in  court  to-day,  yer 
'onor." 

"  Oh,  but  haven't  you  lost  some  children?  " 

The  woman,  who  has  remained  in  court,  slyly  holds 
up  three  fingers. 

"  Please  yer  'onor,  I  did  not  think  of  the  three  that 
died  with  the  measles." 

"  But  how  many  have  you  had?  " 

The  woman  holds  up  five  fingers ;  the  man  mistakes 
her  meaning. 

"  Well,  I  never  thought  to  mention  the  five  we 
have  in  service." 

"How  many  children  do  you  make  of  it  alto- 
gether? " 

"  Please  yer  'onor,  I'm  no  hand  at  calculations ;  but 
if  ye'll  ax  — " 

"I  think  I  can  help  you.  Two  here  to-day,  three 
dead,  five  in  service,  —  that  makes  ten,  —  ten  children 
in  seven  years!  Can  you  explain  that?  " 

"Well  yer  'onor,  I'm  no  scholar;  but  if  ye'll  ax  my 
wife  "  — 

"  Stand  down ;  put  the  boy  in  the  box  "  — 

"Now,  boy,  look  at  me;  where's  your  father  and 
mother?" 

"Please  sir,  my  father's  in  jail,  and  my  mother  sells 
oranges  in  the  street." 

And  so  it  turns  out  that  these  children  are  rented 
at  sixpence  a  day  to  these  street  beggars,  and  they 
are  committed  as  rogues  and  vagabonds. 

One  can  always  see  or  hear  something  amusing  in 
a  police  court.  When  I  was  in  the  city,  the  follow- 
ing dialogue  took  place  between  a  sweep,  who  was  as 
black  as  an  African,  and  the  presiding  magistrate. 


90  A  PAINTED    SPARROW. 

Said  the  latter,  "  My  good  man,  how  often  do  you 
wash  yourself  ?  " 

"  Once  a  week,  regular,  whether  I  wants  it  or  not." 

"Well,  you  might  wash  yourself  more  often,  I 
think." 

"  I  cleans  myself  of  a  Sunday,  sir." 

The  sweep  was  evidently  a  strict  disciplinarian; 
there  was  no  shrinking  from  the  weekly  tub,  no 
namby-pamby  thoughts  that  perhaps  it  might  be  as 
well  to  postpone  the  painful  operation  till  a  warmer 
day.  No,  the  sweep  was  above  all  that.  And  you  can 
see  some  heart-rending  cases  of  brutality,  especially 
to  women.  Drunkenness  brings  nine-tenths  of  the 
cases  to  the  police  court.  A  few  weeks  ago,  a  cler- 
gyman of  the  Church  of  England  was  brought  up 
and  fined  five  shillings  for  drunkenness.  The  next 
case  was  a  physician,  fined  the  same  sum  and  costs 
for  the  same  offence;  and  in  another  court  that  day, 
one,  who  called  himself  a  gentleman,  and  refused  to 
give  his  name,  was  committed  for  drunkenness.  Ahl 
If  I  should  go  on,  I  could  fill  page  after  page  with 
the  records  of  the  doings  of  drink. 

Some  people  are  easily  taken  in.  In  horse  trades, 
all  tricks  seem  to  be  lawful.  It  is  just  the  same  in 
London  with  the  birds.  The  latest  example  of  this 
kind  of  swindling  was  exposed  lately  in  a  London 
police  court.  The  swindler  was  charged  with  obtain- 
ing a  watch  from  a  pot-man,  by  palming  off  on  him  a 
painted  sparrow  for  a  piping  bullfinch.  When  the 
next  morning  came,  the  imposition  was  detected. 
There  was  a  further  charge  against  the  same  person 
of  obtaining  a  diamond  ring,  value  £10,  from  a 
medical  student,  by  pretending  that  a  common  star- 
ling was  a  rare  American  bird.  Of  course  the  pris- 


THE   BARNACLES.  91 

oner  was  convicted;  but  doubtless  he  had  taken  many 
people  in,  in  a  similar  manner. 

The  glorious  uncertainty  of  the  law  was  illustrated 
about  the  same  time,  in  the  case  of  a  William  Smith, 
charged  with  walking  off  from  Covent  Garden  with  a 
basket  of  cherries  without  the  owner's  consent.  In 
mitigation,  he  pleaded  that  the  porter  ought  to  have 
stopped  him  sooner,  and  not  to  have  allowed  him  to 
go  so  far.  The  vindication  apparently  satisfied  the 
court,  and  he  was  discharged,  when  he  said,  "  Yould 
yer  lordship  give  me  a  few  coppers,  as  I  have  only 
twopence-halfpenny  in  the  world."  Actually,  the 
judge  and  jury  and  counsel  took  up  a  collection  for 
his  benefit.  There  is  another  tale  told  in  which  the 
case  did  not  end  quite  so  happily  for  the  defendant, 
who  had  stolen  a  piece  of  bacon,  and  was  asked  how 
far  he  had  carried  it.  "  O,  only  a  hundred  yards  or 
so,  yer  lordship,"  was  the  man's  reply.  "  Ah,  well," 
said  the  judge  meditatively,  "then  I  am  afraid  you 
have  carried  the  joke  a  little  too  far.  Three  months' 
imprisonment." 

It  was  Dickens  who  gave  the  name  of  Barnacle  to 
the  officials  and  employees  in  the  public  offices;  and 
I  believe  that  many  are  still  making  John  Bull  bleed 
pretty  freely,  by  giving  him  as  little  work  as  they 
possibly  can  for  their  money.  In  1857-58,  the  sum 
required  for  the  civil  service  was  £14,300,000.  In 
1877-78,  the  estimates  were  £23,400,000,  being  an 
increase  of  £9,000,000  during  a  period  •  of  what  was 
termed  reorganization  and  retrenchment.  A  little 
while  ago,  a  new  writer  was  appointed  to  work  with 
the  Barnacles  in  the  custom-house.  He  says  that 
when  he  took  to  his  work  in  the  way  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  do  it  in  the  city  warehouses,  every  eye  was 


92  HOW  NOT   TO   DO   IT. 

turned  upon  him,  with  an  expression  of  the  deepest 
pity  and  amazement.  Suddenly,  a  bit  of  paper  fell  upon 
his  book;  the  writing  on  it  ran  thus,  —  "A  nod's  as 
good  as  a  wink  to  a  blind  horse."  The  new  hand 
says  he  went  on  with  his  work  harder  than  ever. 
Then  came  another  bit  of  paper,  —  "  Why  work  so 
desperately  hard?  Nobody  works  hard  here."  Re- 
gardless of  the  advice,  he  kept  on  writing  as  if  he 
were  in  a  commercial  warehouse  in  the  city. 

In  a  few  minutes,  an  angry  voice  sounded  in  his 
ear:  "For  God's  sake,  man,  don't  work  like  that; 
you'll  have  the  whole  office  against  you,  and  you 
won't  do  yourself  a  bit  of  good."  „ 

"  Indeed!  "  was  the  reply. 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  fact.  Nobble's  got  to  give  you  the 
next  book  when  you've  done,  and  he  won't  be  ready 
for  you  before  next  Saturday." 

Now  the  natural  query  of  the  new  employee  was, 
how  he  should  kill  the  remaining  time. 

"  Why,"  said  the  older  Barnacle,  "  look  about  you, 
read  the  papers,  do  a  bit,  then  stop  and  rest.  If  you 
don't,  all  the  fellows  in  the  Barnacle  office  will  be 
dead  against  you."  It  was  there,  the  man  tells  us, 
that  he  first  learned  his  lesson  in  "  how  not  to  do  it." 
He  began  to  look  about  him,  and  to  dawdle  over  his 
work.  Somehow  he  discovered,  as  he  confessed,  that 
to  look  about  him  and  to  daily  grumble,  are  the  chief 
occupations  of  her  Majesty's  Barnacles. 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

LIFE     AMONG     COSTERMONGERS,     BEGGARS,     AND 
THIEVES.  —  SCENES   AT   VICTORIA   THEATRE. 

The  Costermongers  —  "  Picking  up  Crusts  "  —  Street  Fellowship  — 
Religion  and  Respectability  —  Kindness  appreciated  —  Children 
near  Houndsditch  —  The  Coster  Boy  —  In  Business  for  Himself — 
Chaffing  a  "  Peeler "  —  Forgiveness  a  Rare  Trait  —  The  Coster  Girl 

—  Profound  Ignorance  —  Forced  to  Cheat  —  "It's  werry  'ard,  isn't 
it,    Sir?"  —  Shaming    the    Donkey  —  Costermonger's    Education  — 
Victoria  Theatre  —  The  Multitude  of  Boys  and  Girls  —  Excitements 
in  the  Gallery  —  "  Pull  hup  that  'ere  Vinder  Blind  "  —  "  Light  up  the 
Moon  "  —  Reception  of  a  Tragedy  —  Whitechapel  and  Butchers'  Row 

—  Scene  of  a  Saturday  Night  —  Penny  Gaff  or  Theatre  —  Dirt,  Smoke, 
and  Vulgarity  —  "  'Ere's  yer  Pannyrammar  "  • —  "  Legitimit  Dramay  " 

—  Ratcliffe   Highway  —  Ballad   Singers  —  Street  Scenes  —  Catching 
Sailors  —  The  Sailor's  "  Futtergruff "  —  Beer  Houses  and  Gin  Shops 

—  Beggars  and  Thieves  —  Inside  a  Thieves'  Lodging  House  —  The 
Countryman's  Adventure, 93 


OSTERMO]S"GERS  deserve  a  passing 
notice.     They  are  a  large  and  varied 
class,  numbering  some    sixty  thousand, 
seen  nowhere   else  but  in  London    or 
some  of  the  larger  towns  of  England. 
They  pick  up  their  living  in  the  street, 
selling  anything  by  which  they  may,  as 
their  saying  is,  "  pick  up  a  crust." 
Charles  Knight,  in  his  "  London,"  says :  "  The  cos- 
termonger  was  originally  an  apple-seller;  a  particu- 

93 


94  COSTEKMOtfGERS. 

lar  kind  of  apple,  called  a  costard,  gave  them  their 
name." 

The  working  life  of  a  coster  is  spent  in  the  streets, 
and  his  leisure  very  much  devoted  to  the  beer-shop, 
the  dancing-room,  and  the  theatre;  yet  there  are  ex- 
ceptions, some  of  them  being  very  sober,  orderly, 
God-fearing  people.  Home  has  few  attractions  to  a 
man  whose  life  is  a  street-life.  They  have  their  own 
beer-shops,  theatres,  and  other  places  of  amusement. 
They  are  rather  exclusive,  and  like  to  be  let  alone. 
They  are  true  to  each  other.  If  a  coster  falls  ill,  and 
gets  into  the  hospital,  he  is  visited  by  scores  of  his 
fellows. 

Religion  is  rather  a  puzzle  to  the  costermongers. 
They  see  people  coming  out  of  church,  and,  as  they 
are  mostly  well-dressed,  they  somehow  mix  up  being 
religious  with  being  respectable,  and  have  a  queer 
sort  of  a  feeling  about  it.  They  will  listen  to  the 
street-preacher;  but  I  think  the  most  unimpressible 
of  all  with  whom  I  have  been  brought  into  contact, 
on  purely  moral  and  religious  subjects,  are  the  Lon- 
don costermongers.  They  do  not  understand  how  it 
is  possible  that  you  can  feel  any  interest  in  their  spir- 
itual welfare ;  but  if  you  relieve  the  necessities  of  any 
one  in  distress,  you  are  at  once  popular. 

Once  near  Houndsditch  I  saw  some  poor,  pinched 
little  creatures  playing  in  the  gutter.  I  said  to  one, 
"Do  you  want  an  orange?"  The  child  looked  up, 
half  timid,  half  scared,  and  said  nothing.  I  stepped 
up  to  the  stand  and  took  an  orange,  and  oifered  it  to 
the  child;  it  was  at  once  taken;  and  then  they  flocked 
around  me,  and  I  must  have  given  twenty  or  thirty 
oranges  away,  when  I  saw  a  group  of  costers  looking 
on.  As  I  left  the  crowd,  the  men  gave  a  hurrah,  and 


SHARP   AS   TERRIERS.  95 

said,  "  That's  a  gentleman ; "  whereas  if  I  had  offered 
them  a  tract,  I  might  have  had  some  chaffing.  But 
the  city  missionaries,  of  whom  I  shall  speak  in  another 
chapter,  are  doing  great  good  among  them. 

The  life  of  a  coster-boy  is  a  hard  one  from  morning 
till  night:  at  first  hallooing  for  his  father,  then  in 
business  for  himself  with  a  barrow;  next  he  looks 
out  for  a  girl  to  keep  house  for  him.  Very  many  are 
not  married  to  the  women  with  whom  they  live,  yet 
they  are  very  jealous,  and  sometimes  behave  very 
badly  to  the  girl.  One  fellow  about  sixteen  said  to 
Mr.  Mayhew,  "  If  I  seed  my  gal  a-talking  to  another 
chap,  I'd  fetch  her  sich  a  punch  of  the  'ed  as  'ud 
precious  soon  settle  that  matter." 

These  boys  are  very  keen;  as  an  old  coster  said, 
"  These  young  'uns  are  as  sharp  as  terriers,  and  learns 
the  business  in  half  no  time.  I  know  vun,  hate  years 
old,  that'll  chaff  a  peeler  monstrous  sewere." 

As  I  said,  they  have  strange  ideas  about  religion. 
In  the  "  London  Labor  and  London  Poor  "  there  are 
very  many  interesting  details  in  reference  to  this  class, 
and  several  conversations  between  Mr.  Mayhew  and 
the  street-folk  are  reported.  One  of  them  said,  "I 
'ave  heerd  about  Christianity;  but  if  a  cove  vos  to 
fetch  me  a  lick  of  the  'ed,  I'd  give  it  to  'im  again, 
vether  he  was  a  little  vun  or  a  big  'tin."  The  idea  of 
forgiving  injuries  and  loving  enemies  seems  to  them 
absurd.  One  said,  "  I'd  precious  soon  see  a  henemy 
of  mine  shot  afore  I'd  forgive  'im."  Said  another, 
"  I've  heerd  of  this  'ere  creation  you  speaks  about. 
In  coorse  God  Almighty  made  the  world,  but  the 
bricklayers  made  the  'ouses;  that's  my  opinion.  I 
heerd  a  little  about  the  Saviour:  they  seem  to  say  He 
vos  a  goodish  sort  of  a  man;  but  if  He  says  that  a 


96  "IT'S  WERRY  'ARD  ON  us." 

cove  is  to  forgive  a  feller  as  'its  'im,  I  should  say  that 
He  knows  nothing  about  it."  Another  said,  "  I  know 
they  says  in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  l  Forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes as  we  forgive  them;'  but  no  coster  can't 
do  it," 

The  coster-girl's  life  is  very  sad :  her  time,  from  her 
earliest  years,  is  fully  occupied  in  doing  or  getting 
something.  "  Education?  vy,  that  von't  earn  a  gal  a 
living !  "  Mind,  heart,  soul,  all  absorbed  in  the  strug- 
gle to  live!  One  of  the  coster-girls  said,  in  reply  to 
some  questions,  "  Father  told  me  that  God  made  the 
world,  and  the  first  man  and  woman;  but  that  must 
have  been  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago.  Father 
told  us  that  the  Saviour  gin  poor  people  a  penny  loaf 
and  a  bit  of  fish  vonce ;  which  shows  He  was  a  werry 
kind  gentleman.  He  made  the  ten  commandments 
and  the  miracles."  When  questioned  on  the  principle 
of  forgiveness,  she  said,  "  I  don't  think  I  could  for- 
give a  henemy.  I  don't  know  vy,  excep'  I'm  poor  and 
never  learned."  Said  another  girl,  "  It  seems  to  me 
vonderful  that  this  'ere  vorld  vos  made  in  six  days. 
I  should  have  thought  that  London  vould  have  took 
up  double  that  time.  If  ve  cheats,  ve  shan't  go  to 
'even;  but  it's  werry  'ard  on  us,  'cos  customers  vants 
happles  for  less  than  they  cost  us,  so  ve're  forced  to 
shove  in  bad  'uns  with  the  good  'uns ;  and  if  we've  to  be 
shut  out  of  'even  for  that,  it's  werry  'ard,  isn't  it,  sir?  " 

There  are  grades  among  the  coster-mongers,  some 
of  them  more  intelligent  than  this;  sometimes  they 
keep  donkeys,  and  are  occasionally  very  kind  to  them. 
Driving  up  Holborn  Hill,  one  of  these  donkeys,  in 
spite  of  all  coaxing,  refused  to  go  farther;  so  the 
man  took  the  animal  out  of  the  shafts,  and  began 
pulling  the  cart  up  the  hill.  Some  one  asked  why  he 


VICTORIA   THEATHE.  97 

did  that.  "Oh,  I'm  trying  to  shame  'im  into  it." 
Some  drive  a  barrow,  and  many  carry  their  loads  on 
their  heads.  They  are  a  peculiar  folk,  and  we  mourn 
over  the  ignorance  and  immorality  of  this  large  class ; 
but  we  shall  be  less  surprised  at  it  if  we  visit  their 
places  of  amusement,  or  what  may  be  called  their 
"  educational  institutions." 

Victoria  theatre  is  the  great  place  of  amusement 
for  a  coster-monger.  By  a  little  management,  we  get 
a  seat  in  the  side  or  sixpenny  gallery.  On  an  attrac- 
tive night,  the  rush  to  the  threepenny  gallery  of  the 
"  Vic "  (as  it  is  called)  is  awTful.  We  have  a  good 
view  of  them.  It  is  the  largest  gallery  in  London; 
it  will  hold  1,500  to  2,000  persons.  The  majority  of 
visitors  are  lads  from  twelve  to  fifteen  years  of  age, 
and  young  girls  are  very  plentiful.  When  the  theatre 
is  well  packed,  it  is  usual  to  see  crowds  of  boys  on 
each  other's  shoulders  at  the  back  of  the  gallery.  As 
you  look  up  the  vast  slanting  mass  of  heads,  each  one 
appears  on  the  move.  The  huge  heap  dotted  with 
faces,  spotted  with  white  shirt  sleeves,  almost  pains 
the  eye;  and  when  they  clap  their  hands,  the  twinkling 
nearly  blinds  you.  The  men  take  off  their  coats,  and 
the  bonnets  of  the  women  are  hung  over  the  iron  rail- 
ing in  front;  and  one  of  the  amusements  of  the  lads  is 
to  pitch  orange  peel  and  nutshells  into  them  —  a  good 
aim  being  rewarded  with  shouts  of  laughter.  When 
the  orchestra  begins,  you  cannot  hear  the  music.  It 
is  laughable  to  see  the  puffed  cheeks  of  the  trumpet- 
ers, the  quick  sawing  of  the  fiddlers,  the  rise  and  fall 
of  the  drum-sticks,  and  to  hear  no  music.  But  we 
have  not  come  for  music  or  performance,  but  to  see 
this  wonderful  audience,  —  to  be  seen  nowhere  else 
than  in  the  galleries  of  the  "Victoria."  Hear  them  I 
7 


98  A  PENNYWORTH   OF   LIVELINESS. 

"  Bill,  Holloa !  "  "  What's  hup  ?  "  "  Where's  Sal  ?  " 
"Ha,  ha,  ha.  Bob!"  "Holloa!"  Look!  see  that 
boy  coming  actually  over  the  heads  of  the '  mass ;  he 
must  roll  over  into  the  pit  below!  No,  they  catch 
him!  See  the  confusion!  There's  a  fight;  every 
man  rises  from  his  seat;  a  dozen  pair  of  arms  fall  to; 
and  the  whole  gallery  moves  about  like  eels,  with 
shouts,  and  screams  of  "  Bravo !  " 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  uproar,  the  curtain  rises, 
when  there  are  cries  of  "Order;"  "  Silence;"  "Down 
in  front;"  "Hats  hoff."  They  fall  into  their  places 
as  merry  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  If  the  curtain 
is  not  high  enough  to  suit  them,  they  will  sing  out. 
"  Pull  hup  that  'ere  vinder-blind ; "  "  Higher  the 
blue;"  "Light  up  the  moon."  To  the  orchestra, 
the  minute  the  curtain  is  down,  "  Now,  then,  catgut- 
scrapers,  give  us  a  pennyworth  of  liveliness."  The 
"  Yic  "  gallery  is  not  moved  by  sentiment;  a  hornpipe 
or  a  terrific  combat  is  sure  to  be  encored.  A  grand 
^banquet  on  the  stage  is  certain  to  call  forth,  "  Here, 
give  us  a  bit  of  that  'ere?"  All  affecting  situations 
.are  interrupted  with, "  Blow  that,"  or  else  the  vo- 
ciferous cry  of  "  O-r-d-a-r-e."  The  heroine  begging 
for  her  father's  life  is  told  to  "  Speak  hup,  hold  gal !  " 
But  if  the  heroine  should  turn  up  her  cuffs,  and  seize 
on  one  or  two  soldiers  and  shake  them  by  the  collar, 
the  enthusiasm  would  know  no  bounds,  and  "  Go  it, 
my  tulip,"  would  resound  from  every  throat.  Comic 
songs  and  dances  are  popular;  and  during  a  highland 
fling,  the  stamping  of  feet,  beating  time,  and  the 
whistling  drown  the  music.  But  the  great  hit  of  the 
evening  is  when  a  song  is  to  be  sung  in  which  all  can 
join  in  the  chorus.  While  the  solo  is  rendered,  all  is 
.still.  If  any  one  should  break  in  before  the  time,  the 


CURIOUS   PERFORMANCE.  99 

cry  is  "  O-r-d-a-a-r,"  and  at  the  proper  time  the  noise  is 
almost  deafening.  Sometimes  the  singer  on  the  stage 
will  give  the  cue,  "  Now,  then,  gentlemen,  the  Hexeter 
'all  touch,  if  you  please,"  beating  time  with  his  hand, 
to  their  uncontrollable  delight,  and  there  is  sure  to  be 
an  encore  to  that.  Occasionally,  a  heavy  tragedy  is 
tolerated,  and  sometimes  in  parts  listened  to;  but  a 
terrific  combat  must  be  introduced  in  something  of 
this  style,  with  accompaniments. 

Actor.     "Ha!  sayestthou?" 

Audience.     (Get  over  on  t'other  side.) 

Actor.     "  Aye !  by  the  mass." 

Audience.     (  Cut  away,  hold  feller.) 

Actor.     "  Have  at  thee,  then." 

Audience.     (Go  it,  tigJits.) 

Actor.     "  Thy  life- or  mine." 

Audience.     (Play  hup,fusic.) 

Actor.     "  Blood  shall  wipe  out  blood." 

And  at  it  they  go,  striking  one  another's  swords: 
the  more  fire  they  strike  out,  the  better.  One,  two, 
three;  keeping  time,  advancing  and  retreating;  one 
makes  a  blow  at  the  other's  feet,  who,  jumping  a  yard 
high,  comes  down  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  crying 
out,  "  No,  ye  don't,"  to  the  rapturous  applause  of  the 
audience,  after  a  sword  exercise,  reminding  you  of 
"  Crummies  "  in  "  Nicholas  Nickleby."  One  falls ;  the 
other,  about  to  dispatch  him,  is  prevented  by  some 
heroine;  they  separate  with  — 

"  We  shall  meet  again,  Sir  Count." 

Then,  if  the  tragedy  is  very  heavy,  they  will  hear 
it,  especially  if  the  actor  mouths  and  rants.  This  is 
a  favorite  style: 

"  Ha-ha-ha-ha,  what  have  I  —  ha-ha  —  to  do  —  ha- 
ha-ha  —  with  —  ha-ha  —  happiness." 


100  DOWN   WHITECHAPEL   WAT. 

Sometimes  they  will  join  in  a  running  accompani- 
ment, and  woe  to  the  actor  who  shall  lose  his  temper. 
The  great  object  seems  to  be  to  make  the  tragedian 
laugh.  Some  poor  luckless  wight  perhaps  is  cast  for 
Richard  III.,  and  the  performance  commences  some- 
thing like  this : 

"]^ow  is  the. winter  of  our  discontent — " 
("Louder!   Louder!    'old  hup  yer  'ed") 
"  Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York." 
("Hooray!    Brayvo,  old  feller !") 
"  And  all  the  clouds  that  lowered  above  our  house  " 
("Meauw;  Bow-wow;  Hooray!") 
"  In  the  deep  bosom  of  the  ocean  buried." 
("  Blow  that  'ere;  lioff,  hoff,  hooray !  did  yer  go  to 
the  funeral?")  and  so  on,  whenever  this  poor  victim 
makes  his  appearance.     Sometimes  these  actors  are 
mere  sticks.     I  heard  of  one  who  rendered  the  pas- 
sage— 

"  Instead  of  mounting  barbed  steeds, 
To  fright  the  souls  of  fearful  adversaries,"  &c., 

thus  — 

"  Instead  of  mounting  bare  bedsteads, 
To  fright,"  &c. 

Let  us  take  a  run  down  to  Whitechapel,  past  St. 
Paul's,  through  Cheapside,  strike  up  Cornhill,  cross 
Grace  Church  Street!  Oh,  how  fascinating  to  me  is 
a  night  ride  or  stroll  in  London  streets !  We  cross  the 
Minories  and  we  are  in  Butchers'  Row,*  Whitechapel. 
The  gas  glares  from  primitive  tubes  on  a  long  vista  of 
meat,  meat,  meat  everywhere  —  legs,  loins,  shoulders, 
ribs,  hearts,  livers,  kidneys  —  buy,  buy,  buy.  Along 
the  whole  line  are  every  description  of  butchers  cry- 
ing out  "buy,  buy."  Women  are  here  by  scores, 

*  Part  of  this  description  I  have  borrowed  from  "Household  Words." 


BUTCHERS'  BOW.  101 

pretty,  ugly,  old,  young  —  all  chaffering,  higgling, 
beating  down,  and  joking.  On  the  opposite  side  of 
the  pavement  are  the  interminable  lines  of  trucks,  bar- 
rows, baskets,  boards  on  trestles  laden  with  oysters, 
vegetables,  fruit,  combs,  ballads,  cakes,  fried  fish,  arti- 
ficial flowers,  chairs,  brooms,  soap,  candles,  crockery- 
ware,  iron-ware,  cheese,  walking-sticks,  looking- 
glasses,  frying-pans,  Bibles,  toys,  fire-wood,  and  so 
on.  Here's  a  woman  fiercely  beating  down  the  price 
of  carrots,  while  that  newly  married  artisan's  wife, 
who  has  just  begun  life  as  a  housekeeper,  looks  on 
bewildered  and  timid.  Here's  a  blackguard  boy,  with 
a  painted  face,  tumbling  head  over  heels  in  the  mud 
for  a  halfpenny.  Oh,  the  noise  of  Butchers'  Row, 
Whitechapel,  especially  on  a  Saturday  night !  Yelling, 
screeching,  howling,  swearing,  fighting,  laughing. 
It's  a  combination  of  commerce,  fun,  frolic,  cheating, 
begging,  thieving,  deviltry,  short  pipes,  thick  sticks, 
mouldy  umbrellas,  dirty  faces,  and  ragged  coats. 
Here  are  gin  palaces  in  profusion.  The  company 
such  as  you  see  nowhere  else,  yet,  as  I  said  before,  the 
sameness  is  sickening.  In  some  of  them  it  is  hardly 
safe  to  venture  without  a  policeman ;  very  few  bar- 
maids —  men,  strong,  stout,  fighting-men  dispense  the 
liquor. 

Let  us  step  into  this  penny  gaff  or  theatre.  "We  are 
now  past  Butchers'  Row  and  out  in  High  Street, 
Whitechapel.  "  Vun  penny,  if  you  please,  hunless 
you  takes  a  stall,  and  them's  tuppence."  We  take  a 
stall ;  the  place  is  horribly  dirty.  A  low  stage  at  one 
end,  and  the  body  filled  with  the  company.  Oh,  what 
a  company !  Some  light  their  pipes  at  the  foot-lights 
—  for  two-thirds  are  smoking.  The  curtain  rises,  a 
man  and  woman  sing  a  comic  duet;  they  quarrel,  they 


102  RATCLLFFE   HIGHWAY. 

fight,  they  make  up  again ;  but  towards  the  close  — 
ugh!  it's  too  vile,  let  us  come  away.  We  leave  just 
as  a  young  lady,  in  a  cotton  velvet  spencer,  short 
white  calico  skirt,  bare  arms  and  neck,  is  received 
with  screams  of  applause.  "  Here's  your  pannyram- 
mer,"  says  a  man  with  a  blackened  face,  at  the  door  of 
a  dirty  den,  —  "  honly  a  penny ; "  and  we  enter.  We 
sit  for  a  few  minutes,  but  we  can  make  neither  head 
nor  tail  to  the  matter;  but  we  are  here  to  see  the 
company,  and  it  is  the  same  as  at  the  gaif. 

Cross  over  the  street  —  there's  another.  Hear  the 
doorkeeper  —  that  little  stunted,  pockmarked  man, 
with  small  keen  eyes, — "  'Ere's  the  legitimit  dramay; 
threepence  for  the  stalls  if  you  please."  There's  a 
fellow  on  the  stage,  evidently  doing  a  heavy  business. 
Hear  him  rant  to  the  awe-struck  audience. 

"  May  you  blew  Evin  a 
Pour  a  down  rew-ing  a 
Hon  the  tarator's  'ed." 

That'll  do.  We  come  out,  and  before  we  turn  down  to 
Ratcliffe  Highway,  take  another  look  at  Whitechapel, 
shops,  gaffs,  thieves,  and  beggars. 

Katcliffe  Highway  lies  contiguous  to  the  port  of 
London,  and  always  has  a  strong  offensive,  sickening 
odor  of  fish  fried  in  oil.  As  we  pass  down  the 
street,  you  notice  the  shops,  and  the  character  of  the 
wares :  enormous  boots,  oil-skin  caps,  coats  and  trow- 
sers,  rough  woollen  shirts,  compasses  and  charts,  huge 
silver  watches  and  glaring  jewelry,  fried  fish,  second- 
hand clothes.  Everything  has  a  nautical  adaptation. 
The  ballad-singers  deal  in  nautical  songs.  See  that 
poor,  half-naked  man,  with  an  old  tarpaulin  on  his 
head.  Hound  him  gather  a  crowd  of  men,  women 


A  BALLAD   SINGER.  103 

and  children.     He  sings  with  more  energy  than  har- 
mony, and  bawls  more  fact  than  poetry.     Hear  him. 

"  Come  all  good  Keristians 

And  give  attenshin 
Unto  these  lines  I  will  unfold 
With  heartfelt  feel  inks 

To  you  I'll  menshin. 
I'm  sure  that  it  will  make 
Your  werry  hearts'-blood  run  cold. 

The  good  ship  Mariar,  she 
Sailed  from  the  Humber 
On  the  twenty-fourth  of  October, 
Eighten  hundred  and  forty- three. 
Her  crew  was  seven  men  and  a  boy  in  number, 
Which  was  all  swallowed  up  by  the  raging  sea." 

Hartley  Coleridge  said  "  There  is  certainly  nothing 
so  lugubrious  as  the  cracked  voice  of  a  ballad-singer 
in  a  dull,  ill-lighted  back  street,  on  a  rainy  night  in 
November." 

Up  and  down  Ratcliffe  Highway,  the  sailors  of 
every  country  stroll.  Negroes,  Lascars,  Britons,  Ital- 
ians, Yankees,  Danes,  men  who  worship  a  hundred 
gods  and  men  who  worship  none.  Now  let  us  walk 
carefully,  taking  no  notice  of  any  remarks  as  we  ex- 
plore. Here  is  where  poor  Jack  is  "  taken  in  and 
done  for."  Whatever  Jack  may  be  at  sea,  on  shore 
he  is  often  the  weakest  and  simplest  of  men,  and 
there  is  but  little  need  to  cover  the  hook  with  bait  to 
catch  him.  When  ashore,  he  seems  to  have  but  one 
idea,  that  is  to  spend  as  much  money  in  as  short  a  time 
as  possible.  A  photographer  in  Plymouth  told  me 
that  a  shock-headed,  jolly-looking,  but  by  no  means 
handsome  sailor,  came  in  one  day,  — "  Here,  ship- 
mate, I  want  a  futtergruif,  as  'andsome  as  never  you 


104      THE  HANDSOME  "  FOTTERGRUFF." 

can  make  it."  The  "  futtergruff  "  was  taken.  "  That 
me?  That's  too  blessed  hugly;  I  want  it  for  my 
mother  and  sister,  and  I  shan't  send  such  a  looking 
chap  as  that  ere  down,  as  me.  Take  another." 
Another  and  another  was  taken,  but  none  was  satis- 
factory, and  by  his  wonderful  efforts  to  look  handsome, 
the  pictures  were  anything  but  flattering.  At  last, 
looking  at  the  pictures  on  the  wall,  he  said,  "  Why 
don't  you  make  as  'andsum  one  as  that  ere?"  point- 
ing out  the  most  genteel  among  them  all.  "  Come, 
shipmate,  sell  me  vun  of  them;"  and  he  actually 
bought  and  paid  for  one  —  frame  and  all,  and  went 
away  happy  to  think  he  had  got  a  "  futtergruff " 
that  would  do  him  credit  at  home. 

Every  few  yards  we  come  to  a  beer-house,  or  gin- 
shop,  doorways  temptingly  open;  from  the  upper 
rooms  come  the  tramp  of  feet  and  the  sound  of  the 
violin.  Attached  to  many  of  the  houses  is  a  crew  of 
infamous  women  to  tempt  Jack  in  to  treat  them.  His 
drink  is  drugged,  and  against  their  villany  he  has  no 
chance.  It  is  said  that  many  so-called  respectable 
people  have  made  fortunes  there.  Grog  and  dancing 
meet  us  at  every  turn.  Women  —  wild-eyed,  bois- 
terous, cheeks  red  with  rouge,  flabby  with  intem- 
perance, decked  with  ribbons  of  gayest  hue,  all  coarse, 
insolent,  unlovely  —  dancing  in  the  beer-shop,  drink- 
ing at  the  bar,  all  bent  on  victimizing  the  poor 
sailor. 

Let  us  take  a  peep  into  this  Music  Hall.  See  how 
crowded  it  is  with  sailors  and  women  seated  with  pots 
of  porter  before  them;  every  tar,  and  some  of  the 
women,  with  pipes,  listening  to  songs,  and  witnessing 
performances  of  a  very  questionable  moral  character, 
and  not  very  artistic.  Some  of  these  places  of  amuse- 


THIEVES'  LODGINGS.  105 

ment  are  of  too  low  a  character  to  be  described,  yet 
licensed  by  Act  of  Parliament.  By-and-by  the  grog 
will  do  its  work.  Then  unruly  tongues  are  loosed; 
there  are  quarrels  and  blows ;  heads  broken ;  cries  of 
"  police ! "  victims  for  the  hospital,  station-house,  or 
lunatic  asylum;  and  perhaps  some  poor  wretch,  mad- 
dened by  drink  and  shame,  plunges  into  the  muddy 
waters  of  the  nearest  neighboring  dock,  seeking 
vainly  the  oblivion  never  found  in  the  dancing,  drink- 
ing-houses  of  Ratcliffe  Highway. 

I  made  some  explorations  among  the  beggars  and 
thieves  of  London;  sometimes  with  police  officers,  at 
other  times  with  city  missionaries  in  the  thieves'  dis- 
trict. You  get  more  information  in  company  with  a 
missionary  than  with  a  policeman;  for  while  the  latter 
knows  almost  every  thief  in  the  city,  the  thief  knows 
every  policeman,  whether  in  uniform  or  not,  and  they 
are  generally  reticent  while  in  their  presence. 

Come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  where  the 
lowest  class  live;  come  down  this  narrow  street,  as 
we  advance,  picking  our  way  through  kennels,  stum- 
bling over  heaps  of  rubbish  and  oyster-shells.  All 
the  repulsive  and  hideous  features  of  the  place  are 
disclosed  before  us.  Every  human  being  seems  bru- 
talized and  degraded.  We  go  down  this  dark  and 
noisome  alley;  as  the  detective  lifts  the  latch  of  the 
door,  we  enter  a  sort  of  kitchen,  —  this  is  a  thieves' 
ken  or  lodging-house.  On  one  side  there  is  a  long 
table,  at  which  sit  a  number  of  men  of  sinister  aspect. 
The  principal  light  is  afforded  by  a  candle  stuck 
against  the  wall.  In  one  corner,  with  his  head  resting 
on  a  heap  of  coals,  lies  a  boy  as  black  as  a  chimney- 
sweeper, —  that  is  the  waiter.  "  Here's  some  com- 
pany come  to  see  you,  lads!  Here  you,  stand  up 


106  PICKPOCKETS'  TRICKS. 

and  take  off  your  cap."  You  see  the  thief  cowers 
before  the  representative  of  law,  lawless  as  he  is. 
Let  the  officer  simply  say,  "  My  lad,  I  want  you,"  he 
would  probably  turn  to  the  others  and  say,  "  Good- 
by,  coves,"  and  march  off  without  another  word.  As 
we  turn  to  leave  them,  we  see  by  the  expression  of 
their  faces  that  we  are  not  wanted. 

They  have  but  very  little  mercy  on  their  victims. 

I  was  told  that  a  countryman  was  leaning  011  the 
parapet  of  one  of  the  bridges  in  London,  when  he 
was  accosted  by  a  thief. 

"  Nice  river." 

"  Ees,  I'se  been  looking  at  it  awhile ;  wot  lots  of 
ships ! " 

"  Lord  love  ye,  them  ain't  ships,  they  are  boats ;  vos 
you  never  in  London  before?  " 

"  No,  I  never  was." 

"  You'll  have  to  look  out  sharp." 

"Why,  what  for?" 

"  For  the  thieves ;  the  pickpockets  will  get  all  your 
money." 

"No,  they  won't.  I  aren't  afeard  of  a  pick- 
pocket." 

"  Perhaps  you  ain't  got  no  money." 

"  Oh,  ees  I  have.     I  got  a  sovereign." 

"  Yere  do  you  keep  it?  " 

"  Ah,  that's  telling." 

"  Oh,  I  know;  you  keep  it  in  yer  handkerchief  back 
of  yer  neck." 

"No,  I  don't." 

"  Then  you  keeps  it  in  yer  stocking." 

"No,  I  don't.  I  don't  mind  telling  where  I  do 
keep  it;  ha!  ha!  I've  got  it  in  my  mouth,  right  agin 


AN  INNOCENT  COUNTRYMAN.         109 

my  cheek,  away  back;  and  no  thief  will  get  that,  I 
know." 

"  You're  a  deep  one,  you  are.     Good  day." 

In  a  short  time,  a  boy  runs  up  against  the  country- 
man, and  drops  a  handful  of  coppers,  with  one  or  two 
pieces  of  silver, — "  Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!  my  money," — 
and  commences  to  pick  it  up,  assisted  by  the  country- 
man and  others,  who  gather  as  a  crowd  will  gather  at 
a  moment's  notice  in  London.  Still,  when  all  the 
pieces  had  been  returned  to  the  boy,  he  cried,  "  Oh, 
my  money !  my  money !  "  Some  one  said,  "  Have  you 
not  got  your  money?  "  "Oh,  no;  I  'ad  a  sovereign! 
I  'ad  a  sovereign !  " 

Up  steps  the  thief,  who  had  come,  mingling  with 
the  crowd.     "  You've  lost  a  sovereign,  'ave  ye  ?  " 
*" Yes,  sir.     Oh,  dear!  oh,  dear!" 

"  Yy,  I  see  that  chap  there,"  pointing  to  the  coun- 
tryman, "pick  up  something,  and  put  it  in  his 
mouth." 

At  this  the  countryman  stands  bewildered,  till  some 
one  cries  out,  "  Find  out  whether  he's  got  it;  "  another 
catches  him  by  the  throat,  and  squeezing  him  till 
nearly  choking,  to  save  himself  from  strangulation  he 
ejects  the  sovereign,  which  is  given  to  the  boy,  with  a 
great  deal  of  sympathy.  The  poor  countryman  is 
hustled  by  the  crowd,  and  may  consider  himself  lucky 
if  he  escapes  a  ducking  in  the  river. 


CHAPTEE  YH. 

HAUNTS     OF     CRIME.  —  THE     CITY     MISSIONARIES     OF 
LONDON  AND   THEIR  WORK. 

London  essentially  cosmopolitan  —  Byron's  "  Superb  Menagerie  "  — 
Thackeray's  "Vanity  Fair"  —  Solitude  in  the  Crowd  —  Munificent 
Charities  —  Cures  for  every  111  —  The  Aristocracy  —  Extremes  of 
Character  —  The  Middle  Class  —  Homes  of  Virtue  —  "The  Bray  of 
Exeter  Hall  "  —  City  Missionaries  —  Heroism  in  "  Little  Hell "  — 
"  Never  rob  a  Parson  "  —  Training-Schools  for  Thieves  —  Practising 
at  picking  Pockets"  —  Perverse  Judgments  of  Perverse  Natures' — 
At  Enmity  with  the  World  — "The  Gospel-Grinder"  —  Philosophy 
of  a  Boy -Thief — Selling  "Hinguns"  —  A  Rough-and-Ready  Mis- 
sionary—  "No  Genus  in  picking  a  Pocket" — "Fear  makes  Cow- 
ards of  us  "  —  Religion  hurts  the  Business  —  A  Publican  spoiled  — 
Real  Courage  —  The  Sermon  of  the  Converted  Sweep  —  Parable 
of  the  Ignorant  Cabman  —  Rough  Welcome  to  the  Preacher. 

CXNDO^sT  and  its  people  are  an  inex- 
haustible theme.  The  different  opin- 
ions of  different  people  about  London 
would  fill  volumes.  Dr.  Johnson  says: 
"  I  have  often  amused  myself  with 
thinking  how  different  a  place  London 
is  to  different  people.  A  politician 
thinks  of  it  merely  as  the  seat  of  gov- 
'ernment;  a  grazier,  as  a  great  mart  for  cat- 
tle; a  man  of  pleasure,  as  an  assemblage  of  taverns 
and  theatres;  a  mercantile  man,  as  a  place  where  a 
prodigious  amount  of  business  is  done  upon  'Change ; 
but  the  intellectual  man  is  struck  with  it  as  compre- 

110 


INEXHAUSTIBLE   LONDON".  Ill 

* 

hending  the  whole  of  human  life  in  all  its  variety,  the 
contemplation  of  which  is  inexhaustible."  The  same 
great  authority  declared  that  Fleet  Street  contained 
"  the  most  sublime  and  picturesque  combinations  of 
objects  within  the  periphery  of  our  terraqueous  ball." 
On  another  occasion  the  sage  exclaims :  "  Sir,  no  man 
that  is  at  all  intellectual  will  leave  London.  No,  sir. 
When  he  has  exhausted  London,  he  has  exhausted 
life;  for  there  is  in  London  all  that  life  can  afford." 
"  The  literature  of  England,  of  Europe,  of  the  world, 
at  any  place  or  any  time,"  wrote  the  author  of  "  Mod- 
ern Babylon,"  "  contains  not  a  page,  a  volume,  or  a 
book  so  mighty  in  import,  so  magnificent  in  explana- 
tion, as  the  single  word  London."  Byron  called 
London  "  one  superb  menagerie ; "  Cobbett  called  it 
"  a  great  wen;"  Thackeray  called  it  "  Vanity  Fair." 
Charles  Lamb,  Horace  Smith,  and  other  wits,  could 
live  nowhere  but  in  London.  As  these  men  loved 
London  for  its  society,  so  other  men  love  it  for  its 
quiet.  "A  man  of  letters,"  writes  the  elder  D'Israeli, 
"  more  intent  on  the  acquisitions  of  literature  than  on 
the  intrigues  of  politicians  or  the  speculations  of  com- 
merce, may  find  a  deeper  solitude  in  the  populous 
metropolis  than  in  the  seclusion  of  the  country." 
Gibbon  in  the  same  spirit  tells  us:  "While  coaches 
were  rattling  through  Bond  Street,  I  have  passed 
many  a  solitary  evening  in  my  lodgings  with  my 
books.  I  withdrew  without  reluctance  from  the  noisy 
and  extensive  scene  of  crowds  without  company  and 
dissipation  without  pleasure." 

The  philanthropist  may  contemplate  with  delightful 
astonishment  the  amazing  charities  of  London.  All 
thoughtful  foreign  visitors  are  struck  with  the  mu- 
nificence and  charities  of  London.  What  a  noble 


112  EXTREMES   OF   SOCIETY. 

V 

array  of  charities  for  the  sick  body,  the  suddenly  dis- 
abled by  accident,  the  means  of  cure  for  blinded 
eyes,  for  deafened  ears,  for  the  cough  of  the  con- 
sumptive, and  the  tearing  fingers  of  cancer!  In 
short,  there  is  a  refuge  in  London  for  almost  every 
bodily  ill,  where  all  that  science,  skill,  and  experience 
can  do  is  freely  given  to  the  poorest.  How  these 
streams  are  kept  in  a  perennial  flow  you  see  by  the 
words  carved  high  on  all  these  noble  institutions: 
"  Supported  by  voluntary  contribution." 

I  have  dwelt  long  on  the  darker  shades  of  London 
life,  on  some  saddening  parts  of  it.  I  have  given  you 
my  experiences,  the  results  of  observation  and  inves- 
tigation; described  to  you  scenes  I  have  looked  on, 
and  shown  you  pictures  of  a  certain  phase  of  life  in 
the  great  metropolis;  I  have  brought  before  you  what 
are  termed  the  "lower  classes,"  between  whom  and 
the  higher  classes,  the  aristocracy  and  nobility,  there 
is  a  "  great  gulf  fixed,"  across  which  I  have  never 
attempted  to  pass,  and  should  probably  have  been 
foiled  if  I  had.  I  can  tell  you  nothing  of  the  habits, 
manners,  or  customs  of  that  class,  and  will  only  say 
that  among  them  there  are  some  of  the  noblest  and 
some  of  the  meanest  of  mankind,  the  most  liberal  and 
the  most  conservative,  the  most  sympathetic  and  the 
most  heartless.  We  know  this  from  their  work,  not 
by  contact  with  them,  except  on  occasions  when  their 
benevolence  and  desire  to  advance  the  interests  of 
the  people  have  brought  us  together  for  a  brief  space. 

But  between  the  two  extremes  of  society  we  find 
most  of  the  active  benevolence,  the  saving  influences ; 
and  it  is  delightful  to  know  that  in  London,  with  all 
its  crime  and  poverty  and  degradation,  there  are  so 
many  thousand  rills  of  loving  and  holy  effort  to  heal 


KOMAXCE   OF   THE   STREETS.  113 

the  moral  sicknesses.  We  can  only  faintly  picture  the 
household  fires  gleaming  warm  and  bright  on  groups 
where  cultivated  parents  so  train  and  guard  the  chil- 
dren as  to  see  them  walk  the  path  of  life  with  un- 
spotted garments.  Space  would  fail  to  record  the 
pure  pleasures,  the  lovely  social  gatherings ;  the  quiet 
plans  of  employers  to  make  those  who  serve  them 
wise  concerning  the  good,  and  simple  concerning  the 
evil;  the  scores  of  meetings  every  night  pulsating 
with  hearty  effort  to  dry  up  the  fountain  of  sin  and 
suffering,  and  to  get  help  from  above  in  a  work  that, 
in  the  aggregate,  is  enough  to  appall  the  most  cour- 
ageous benevolence.  I  could  tell  you  of  Exeter  Hall, 
now  purchased  by  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation, the  name  having  been  for  years  the  synonyme 
for  benevolent  and  reformatory  effort.  This  Exeter 
Hall  influence  on  religion  and  reformatory  progress 
was  unwillingly  avowed  when,  in  a  moment  of  vexa- 
tion at  its  blocking  his  path  in  some  degree,  a  great 
man  called  it,  in  his  place  before  the  people,  "  the 
bray  of  Exeter  Hall."  "We  will  show  you  some  of 
the  modes  of  operation  outside  the  direct  teaching 
and  influence  of  the  churches. 

The  City  Missionaries  are  indeed  a  self-denying 
class  of  men,  living  on  a  bare  pittance,  and  often 
sharing  their  poor  crust  with  the  destitute.  They 
are  not  "  Stigginses,"  nor  "  Chadbands,"  nor  "  red- 
nosed  shepherds."  From  my  heart  I  pity  those  who 
can  find  no  better  representatives  of  these  Christian 
workers.  Read  the  following,  from  the  "Romance 
of  the  Streets,"  relating  to  a  missionary :  "  During 
fifteen  years  he  worked  in  one  of  the  worst  districts 
of  the  metropolis,  in  the  rear  of  Lisson  Grove.  In 
one  street,  known  by  the  name  of  '  Little  Hell,'  he 


114  CITY  MISSIONARIES. 

attended  eighty-five  cases  of  typhus  fever.  As  a 
common  visitor  among  divers  diseases,  he  has  never 
personally  suffered,  but  his  children  have  more  than 
once  been  prostrated  by  infection  carried  home.  In 
this  infamous  rookery  he  walked  safely  at  all  hours 
among  the  haunts  of  the  most  vicious  of  our  race,  so 
completely  were  the  respect  and  confidence  of  the 
inhabitants  gained.  There  was  not  a  ruffian  in  the 
entire  length  of  the  street  who  would  not  have  de- 
fended the  <  parson '  by  word  and  hand,  had  occasion 
arisen." 

One  may  ask  what  possible  good  can  a  religious 
teacher  do  among  this  class.  Frequently  one  of  these 
missionaries  seems  to  be  qualified  in  a  remarkable  de- 
gree for  this  work.  It  is  not  by  his  soft  speech  nor 
his  polished  eloquence,  but  often  in  a  blunt,  rough- 
and-ready  way;  he  will  lose  no  chance  of  warning 
the  younger  ones  of  the  evil  of  their  ways.  All  these 
are  wonderful  men,  going  about  their  business  in  a 
cheerful,  hopeful  way,  humming  snatches  of  hymns. 
Sometimes  the  missionary  will  rescue  a  wife  out  of 
the  cruel  hands  of  her  brutal  husband,  when  police- 
men are  loath  to  interfere.  One  of  them  told  me  that 
he  had  never  lost  anything  but  once,  though  he  had 
worked  amongst  them  sixteen  years,  and  then  a  boy 
brought  his  handkerchief  back  to  him  the  next  day, 
apologizing  that  it  was  a  new  boy  that  took  it,  "  vot 
didn't  know  the  missionary." 

Rev.  Charles  Stovel  said,  in  a  speech  at  Exeter 
Hall:  "Passing  down  Rosemary  Lane,  one  night,  a 
handkerchief  was  extracted  from  my  pocket  by  a  lad, 
who  ran  away  with  it.  Soon  afterwards,  however,  he 
returned  and  said,  *  Please,  sir,  is  this  yours?'  *  Yes, 
it  is,'  I  replied.  '  Take  it,'  said  he,  and  then  added, 


NEVER  BOB    A   PAHS(XN".  115 

'  Please,  sir,  give  me  something  for  bringing  it  back.' 
'No,  my  boy,'  I  said,  'I  must  not  do  that;  but  I  will 
leave  a  little  book  for  you  with  my  friend  here.'  The 
boy  came  the  next  day  to  the  house  of  my  friend,  and 
said,  ' Please,  sir,  was  not  that  a  minister?'  'Yes,' 
was  the  answer.  <Ah,  well,'  said  the  boy,  'I  will 
never  rob  a  parson,  for  God's  sake.' " 

It  is  pitiful  to  know  that  so  many  are  trained  as 
thieves.  A  city  missionary  has  described  how  they 
are  schooled.  He  says :  "  I  found  a  room  in  my  dis- 
trict in  which  children  of  both  sexes  were  instructed 
on  the  doll.  The  image  of  a  lady  or  a  gentleman  was 
dressed  and  suspended  from  the  ceiling.  A  purse 
containing  sixpence  was  placed  in  the  pockets;  a  bell 
was  hung  on  a  spring  in  the  inside  of  the  figure ;  the 
youth  who  could  extract  the  purse  without  ringing 
the  bell,  got  the  sixpence." 

One  man  who  pursued  his  mission  among  them 
said,  that  what  renders  their  case  almost  hopeless  is 
the  fact  that  they  have  no  faith  in  the  sincerity,  hon- 
esty, or  goodness  of  human  nature;  they  believe 
other  people  are  no  better  than  themselves,  and  will 
do  a  wrong  thing  when  it  suits  their  purpose  as 
readily  as  they  will.  Only  those  who  have  tried  the 
experiment  can  tell  how  difficult  it  is  to  make  a  thief 
believe  you  are  disinterested,  and  mean  him  well. 
They  have  an  ingrained  conviction  that  you  are 
wrong  —  not  they.  You  are  wrong  in  appropriating 
the  good  things,  leaving  none  for  them,  but  such  as 
they  can  steal.  They  are  taught  that  the  clergy  are 
hypocrites,  the  magistrates  tyrants,  the  policeman 
their  natural  foe,  and  all  honest  people  their  bitter 
enemies. 

With  the  city  missionary,  you  may  obtain  information 
8 


116  "VALLOPING   'UBTS." 

from  them.  For  although  they  call  him  the  "  Gospel 
grinder,"  they  are  often  quite  free  in  their  communi- 
cations to  him  and  before  him.  Once,  exploring  with 
a  gentleman  who  had  been  very  successful,  he  said, 
"These  boys  you  see  pitching  pennies  are  thieves. 
I  will  call  one  of  them,  and  ask  him  some  questions. 
1  Jem!'  'Veil?'  'Come  here.'  'All  right.'  'I 
want  you  to  give  this  gentleman  some  information.' 
e  All  right  ye  are  again,  sir.'  '  What  makes  boys 
thieves  ? '  '  Yell,  sir,  because  they  von't  let  a  boy  get 
an  'onest  living.'  «  How's  that?  '  '  Yell,  I'll  tell  yer. 
Suppose  my  father,  he  says,  "  Jem,  you  go  out  and 
'oiler  them  inguns;  you  bring  me  back  so  much 
money  or  enough  inguns  to  make  your  accounts 
square,  or  I'll  vallop  ye ; "  and  boys  don't  like  val- 
loping,  it  'urts.  So  I  goes  hout  and  'oilers  the  inguns. 
I  gets  tired.  I've  been  at  it  all  day,  and  don't  sell 
none.  I  sees  a  voman  a-standing  at  her  gate.  I 
think  she's  fly,  so  I  says,  "  Please,  ma'am,  do  you  vant 
to  buy  any  inguns  of  a  poor  boy?  "  "  How  d'ye  sell 
'em?"  she  says.  "Threepence  ha'penny  a  bunch, 
ma'am."  "I'll  give  ye  threepence."  "Couldn't  let 
ye  'ave  'em  for  threepence."  "Then  I  don't  vont 
'em."  Now,  vot  vould  a  ha'penny  be  to  her?  Noth- 
ing; but  it's  a  good  deal  to  me;  so  I  goes  on  a- 
'ollering.  Another  voman,  she  says,  "  'Ow  do  ye  sell 
hinguns?"  "Threepence  ha'penny  a  bunch,  ma'am." 
"I'll  give  ye  threepence  ha'penny,  if  you  throw  a 
couple  of  inguns  in."  Veil,  I  'aven't  sold  any.  I'm 
tired,  and  I  thinks  perhaps  I'll  make  it  up  off  some- 
body else;  so  I  lets  'er  'ave  'em,  and  I'm  ha'penny 
short;  and  so  it  goes  on;  everybody  thinking  I'm 
making  a  fortin  selling  inguns,  and  everybody  beat- 
ing on  yer  down.  So  I  goes  home  short,  and  my 


GENIUS   AND    CHEEK.  117 

father  vallops  me,  and  sends  me  to  bed  without 
nothing  to  eat,  and  ve  precious  soon  finds  out  it's 
easier  to  prig  than  it  is  to  get  an  'onest  living,  ven 
everybody  's  beating  on  yer  down.' ': 

One  boy  not  twenty  said  to  me,  "  There  ain't  no 
genius  in  picking  a  pocket;  that's  only  sleight  of  'and, 
anybody  could  do  that.  I'll  tell  ye  vere  the  genius 
is.  Ven  you've  got  a  gent's  vipe  out  of  his  pocket, 
and  he  turns  round  and  says,  '  Somebody's  picked  my 
pocket,'  and  you  look  'im  right  in  the  face  and  says, 
1  'As  there,  sir?  that  werry  'ard  on  you,  sir.'  That's 
cheek;  that's  genius."  Another  said,  "The  best  lay 
we  'as  is  where  they  stick  up,  l  Beware  of  pickpock- 
ets ! '  Venever  you  see  that  advertisement,  there 
you'll  find  the  pickpockets ;  —  in  the  post-office,  round 
the  bank,  or  the  railway  station.  You  see,  sir,  some 
cove  'as  been  to  draw  'is  dividends,  or  get  money  in 
the  Corn  Exchange.  Arter  he  gets  'is  money,  he 
goes  into  the  post-office  or  railway  station,  and  ven 
he  sees  that  'ere  advertisement,  he  says  to  hisself, 
1  Beware  of  pickpockets,  so  I  must ; '  and  then  he 
puts  'is  'and  vere  'is  money  is,  and  ve  sees  'im,  and 
finds  out  that  he's  got  something,  and  vere  he  keeps 
it;  and  them  'ere  two  pints  gained,  the  result  is  werry 
hobvious." 

To  return  from  the  digression.  "We  ask  what  good 
can  be  accomplished  by  Christian  workers?  One 
point  to  gain  is  to  make  them  dissatisfied  with  pres- 
ent circumstances.  Then  you  create  a  desire  for 
something  better.  A  youthful  thief  said  of  the  mis- 
sion work :  "  This  'ere  has  done  me  a  deal  of  harm. 
Ill  tell  you  why.  Me  and  some  of  my  pals  here  get 
our  living  how  we  can;  cause  why?  we've  got  no 
characters,  and  nobody  won't  employ  us.  Ve  can't 


118  GOD    SEES   YOU. 

starve,  don't  you  know,  and  vot's  a  cove  to  do? 
Well,  they're  always  preaching  about  God  seeing 
you,  and  the  like  of  that.  It  makes  a  cove  afeard,  — 
it  takes  all  the  pluck  out  of  me,  I  know.  I  never 
thieve  now,  unless  I'm  forced  to  do  it  from  hunger. 
If  I  go  arter  a  handkerchief,  when  the  pinch  comes, 
I  begin  to  think  about  God  Almighty;  for  as  they 
say,  you  know,  fear  makes  cowards  of  us." 

There  are  missionaries  who  visit  the  public  houses: 
read  a  description  of  one.  A  writer  says :  "  Instead 
of  a  shabby-genteel,  white-neckerchiefed  creature  of 
the  preacher  type,  as  I  expected  to  find,  he  was  a 
thick-set,  determined-looking,  being,  who,  with  the 
Bible  in  one  pocket  and  a  bundle  of  tracts  in  the 
other,  went  forth  to  work  among  the  dens  in  a  very 
matter-of-fact  fashion."  He  is  prepared  for  opposi- 
tion, and  argument  or  objection;  but  he  is  impertur- 
bably  good-tempered,  and  possesses  an  amazing 
amount  of  courage  and  tact,  often  receiving  a  rebuff, 
and  then  again  a  word  in  reply  revealing  a  degree  of 
interest,  and  some  conscience.  A  poor  drunkard,  a 
young  man,  haggard,  squalid,  and  ragged,  received  a 
tract,  when  the  missionary  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der, and  said  in  a  whisper,  "  We  must  all  give  an  ac- 
count of  ourselves  to  God."  "  A  pretty  account  mine 
will  be,"  was  the  answer,  and  so  the  way  was  open 
for  a  talk.  A  missionary  offered  a  tract  to  a  young 
medical  student,  as  he  was  chatting  with  some  of  his 
friends.  He  took  it,  and  when  he  discovered  what  it 
was,  he  said,  "  Please  take  it  back;  I  have  just  passed 
my  examination,  and  I  am  out  for  a  spree.  I  am  not 
in  a  fit  state  to  have  it;  I  am  afraid  I  shall  turn  it  into 
ridicule." 

Sometimes  the  good  influence  extends  to  the  land- 


PUBLIC-HOUSE   MISSIONAHIES.  .      119 

lords.  Some  roughs  were  evidently  in  a  bad  humor; 
something  had  ruffled  them.  "He  won't  serve  you 
now,  if  you're  only  a  bit  tight;  and  if  you  let  slip  a 
word,  he  says,  'Now,  then,  that  won't  do  in  this 
house.":  "Well,  he  wasn't  always  so,"  said  another; 
"he  used  to  be  as  good  a  chap  as  any,  and  could 
swear  a  bit.  I've  heard  him."  "  Ah,"  said  a  third, 
"  he's  not  fit  to  be  a  publican  now.  What  made  him 
do  so,  do  you  know?  "  "  Know!  yes,  to  be  sure  I  do. 
Why,  them  missionary  fellows  walk  bang  into  the 
beer-shops  now;  and  one's  been  in  there,  taking  his 
religion  and  his  tracts  with  him,  and  he's  so  worked 
on  the  landlord's  mind  that  he's  quite  turned  it,  and 
now  he  treats  his  customers  in  this  way." 

Sometimes  the  surprise  of  on-lookers  at  these 
operations  is  singularly  expressed.  One  said,  "My 
stars !  a  public-house  is  a  rum  crib  for  spouting  in. 
Forty  years  I  have  been  in  and  out  of  these  cribs, 
and  never  heard  a  spouter  before.  What  next,  I 
wonder,  after  this?  "  One  of  the  London  newspapers 
remarks :  "  When  we  first  heard  of  missionaries  visit- 
ing public-houses,  it  struck  us  forcibly  as  casting 
pearls  before  swine,  and  exposing  men  to  unnecessary 
insult  and  certain  failure,  but  we  were  soon  convinced 
to  the  contrary.  In  these  dens  of  iniquity  the  agents 
seek  out  the  very  refuse,  —  the  dregs  of  humanity,  — 
and  with  the  good  old  Book  in  hand,  carry  to  them 
the  news  of  a  divine  hope,  even  for  the  vilest  of  man- 
kind. It  may  seem  almost  beyond  belief,  but  such  is 
the  tact,  the  courage,  and  efficiency  of  the  agents  em- 
ployed in  this  particular  work,  that  when  they  become 
known  to  the  habitual  frequenters  of  any  house,  insult 
or  attempted  injury  would  be  instantly  hooted  down 
by  the  company ;  and,  more  strange  still,  the  publicans 


120  "THANKFUL  FOE  THAT." 

themselves  often  welcome  the  Society's  agents  to  their 
doors,  and  do  all  that  lies  in  their  power  to  obtain  a 
quiet  hearing  for  them.  He  is  a  bold,  good  man,  who 
in  the  excitement  of  battle,  with  the  eyes  of  the  world 
upon  him,  and  with  the  hope  of  the  Victoria  Cross 
before  him,  rushes  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy  to 
rescue  a  comrade  from  death;  but  he  is  a  bolder  and 
nobler  man  who,  without  excitement,  and  with  no 
human  rewards  provided  for  him,  can  appear  amid  the 
reeking  orgies  of  a  low  London  tap-room,  and  speak, 
not  only  of  wasted  health,  scattered  wages,  and  de- 
serted homes,  but  of  souls  lost,  and  to  be  redeemed 
by  the  most  costly  offering  that  Bounty  could  bestow 
for  their  salvation." 

In  some  of  the  localities  inhabited  by  costermongers 
and  the  very  poor,  the  missionaries'  work  has  been 
productive  of  great  good.  It  is  really  delightful  to 
visit  the  renovated  homes  of  some  of  these  people. 
Here  in  a  poor  apartment,  with  but  very  little  com- 
fort, we  find  a  man  unable  to  earn  a  living,  sorely 
afflicted  and  a  cripple,  with  his  Bible,  and  cheerful  in 
the  prospect  of  a  better  inheritance.  A  woman  who, 
after  paying  her  rent,  has  two  shillings  left  for  the 
week,  and  a  little  bread  and  tea  twice  a  day  being  her 
customary  fare,  says  she  is  "  thankful  for  that."  From 
the  often  despised  city  missionary  she  has  received 
something  better  than  earth's  riches  or  prosperity. 
Here  in  another  room  we  find  a  costermonger  and  his 
family,  practising  cleanliness  and  sobriety;  and  he  is 
only  a  type  of  many  others  brought  under  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Gospel  by  the  missionary,  which  has  pro- 
duced in  him  self-respect,  so  that  he  is  striving  after 
an  honest  independence,  and  often  under  difficulties. 
One  of  the  costers  said,  "Can't  be  religious  nohow; 


"HERE'S  THE  PABSON."  121 

can't  let  the  barrer  be  lazy  on  Sundays."  But  when 
they  accept  the  Gospel,  you  hear  them  exclaim, 
"  Don't  work  on  Sundays  now,  sir.  A  good  day  for 
trade  I  know,  sir ;  but  I  likes  to  trade  with  heaven  on 
Sundays,  and  learn  a  little  about  my  soul  there."  One 
will  say,  "I  ain't  a  eddicated  person,  but  I  knows 
wot's  wot,  and  I  know  God  never  meant  the  likes  of 
us  to  be  religious.  ~Vy,  don't  yer  see  it  couldn't  be 
done !  "  Yet  when  such  are  reclaimed,  their  Christian 
profession  becomes  very  sincere,  and  their  life  a 
zealous  service.  "  I  allus  felt  ashamed  of  myself," 
confessed  a  converted  sweep,  "  when  I  seed  the  people 
comin'  out  of  church,  and  I'd  been  a  cussin'  and 
swearin'.  !Now,  mates,  you  want  to  get  to  Heaven. 
I'll  tell  you  how  to  get  there.  Trust  in  Jesus  Christ; 
He'll  never  forsake  yer.  I,  a  poor  sweep,  am  glad  to 
wash  my  face  when  my  day's  work  is  done;  but  how 
much  better  to  have  Christ  to  wash  your  black  soul ! " 
"  How  do  yer  know  you're  going  to  Heaven?  "  asked 
one  of  his  old  mates.  "  Well,"  said  he,  "  how  do  you 
know  whether  you've  got  sugar  in  your  tea?  " 

The  missionary  must  understand  the  method  of  ap- 
proaching those  he  would  help,  and  adapt  his  discourse 
to  the  condition  of  his  hearers.  Approaching  a  com- 
pany of  cabmen  who  were  gathered  round  a  public- 
house,  one  of  them  said,  "Here's  the  parson,  men, 
vot  goes  round  to  make  people  religious."  The  mis- 
sionary said,  "  I  want  to  tell  you  rather  a  queer  tale 
about  a  young  chap  that  thought  he  could  be  a  cab- 
man before  he  knew  about  the  city,"  and  then  he  quite 
humorously  described  the  poor  fellow's  perplexity 
when  he  tried  to  find  the  Great  Western  Railway,  and 
hunted  for  it  down  Shoreditch,  and  then  at  the  Bank, 
and  then  at  Whitechapel  Church,  and  so  on. 


122  "BUSTEK,  MY 

The  men  were  very  much  delighted  with  the  graphic 
description  of  the  young  man's  blunders,  and  unani- 
mously voted  him  a  fool  for  driving  round,  when  he 
only  had  to  ask,  and  almost  anybody  would  have  set 
him  right.  When  he  had  got  them  to  this  point,  he 
cried  out,  "  Now  you're  all  driving  wrong,  and  you 
should  be  civil  to  any  one  who  knows  the  road,  and 
would  set  you  right.  Here  is  God's  road-book," 
opening  the  Bible.  "Let  me  tell  you  how  sinners 
may  drive  straight  to  Heaven.'*  This  was  within  the 
compass  of  their  intellect,  and  they  thanked  him,  and 
voted  him  to  be  a  good  sort  of  a  fellow.  One  of 
these  self-denying  and  useful  men  relates  that  on  one 
occasion,  when  he  called  at  a  house  where  a  large 
number  of  rough  men  were  gathered,  one  cried  out, 
"  I  say,  mates,  here's  the  gemman  vot  talks  to  poor 
people  about  summut  better ; "  then  to  one  who  was 
six  feet  tall,  he  said,  "  Now,  Buster,  my  hinfant,  I 
vants  you  to  'ear  the  old  buffer,  'cos  you  knows  a 
thing  or  two,  it's  regular  stunning,  and  vot's  more,  it's 
sometimes  cutting."  "  Come,  mister,  give  these  'ere 
gents  a  stave;  let's  'ear  summut  about  that  young 
rascal  vot  bolted  away  from  his  poor  old  father;  that 
is  a  regular  good  thing,  that  is.  Buster,  my  hinfant, 
come  hand  over  the  cushion;  and  mister,  you  don't 
object  to  our  taking  a  smoke;"  and  the  missionary 
read  the  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  with  comments ; 
and  after  half  an  hour  he  asked  if  they  were  tired, 
and  all  cried  out,  "  Gro  on  I  go  on]  " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


WAR  WITH  VICE.  ; —  TEMPERANCE   WORK  AMONG   THE 
DESTITUTE   AND   DEPRAVED. 

Street  -  Preachers  —  Fitness  for  their  Work  —  A  Striking  Scene  — 
"  Music  with  no  Melody,  Laughter  with  no  Mirth  "  —  "  Murder,  Mur- 
der, Police !  "  —  The  Street  -  Preacher  and  his  Audience  —  Plain 
Preaching  and  its  Power  —  "  Reformatory  and  Refuge  Union  "  — 
Thirty-four  Benevolent  Institutions  under  One  Control  —  Good  Work 
of  a  Brewer's  Son  —  Lambeth  Baths  —  Hoxton  Hall  —  A  Converted 
Building  —  William  Noble's  Mission  —  The  Blue  -  Ribbon  Army  — 
An  Audience  of  Reformed  Men  — "  London  Times "  on  Gough  in 
Hoxton  Hall  —  Report  of  the  "Record"  on  the  same  Meeting — 
Four  Great  Branches  of  the  Temperance  Work  —  United  Kingdom 
Alliance  —  Temperance  in  Politics  —  "  Medical  Temperance  So- 
ciety "  —  "  London  Temperance  Hospital  "  —  Eight  Thousand  Patients 
in  Six  Years  —  Medicine  without  Alcohol  —  Results. 


,HILE  the  missionaries'  work  is 
exceedingly  interesting  and  fasci- 
nating, I  pass  on  to  speak  of  the 
street  preachers,  for  the  missionary 
proper  does  not  preach  so  much  as 
visit  and  make  personal  appeals. 
C  The  street  preacher  may  not  be 
suited  to  a  fastidious  audience.  He 
may  understand  no  rules  of  rhetoric, 
but  he  talks  from  his  experience,  and  uses  language 
easily  comprehended  by  the  audiences  that  listen  to 
him. 

A  discourse  should  always  be  adapted  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  hearers,   and  no  one  can  listen  to  one 

123 


124  STAND   STILL   AND   LISTEN. 

of  these  street  preachers,  at  the  "  Seven  Dials,"  or 
"  Golden  Lane,"  or  "  Ratcliffe  Highway,"  and  note 
the  earnest  attention  of  the  ragged  audience,  with- 
out feeling  that  the  speaker  understands  his  audience, 
and  that  they  understand  him.  What  if  they  do 
mispronounce  their  words?  What  if  they  do  drop 
their  "  h's  "  when  they  are  needed,  and  take  them  up 
when  not  wanted?  What  if  they  do  sometimes  con- 
struct a  sentence  contrary  to  the  rules  of  syntax? 
Their  influence  is  none  the  less  powerful  on  those 
who  listen  to  them.  I  think  I  never  saw  a  more 
striking  effect  produced  on  an  audience  than  I  wit- 
nessed once  in  the  streets.  I  stood  with  a  detective 
and  two  gentlemen  at  the  junction  of  three  streets, 
listening  to  the  din  and  confusion  of  that  very  bad 
neighborhood.  The  detective  had  said,  "Now,  gentle- 
men, you  stand  here  by  me :  do  not  answer  any  question 
that  may  he  put  to  you,  nor  make  any  reply  to  any 
remark,  but  stand  by  me.  Take  care  of  your  valua- 
bles, and  listen."  The  raw  night  breeze  brought  to 
our  ears  the  wailing  cry  of  neglected  children,  the 
hoarse  voice  of  blasphemy  and  cursing,  the  shuffling 
of  feet,  music  with  no  melody,  laughter  with  no 
mirth;  when  suddenly  we  heard  a  cry  of  "murder, 
murder,  police ! "  and  a  half  naked  woman  dashed 
past  us,  her  hair  dishevelled,  her  face  streaming  with 
blood.  "Stand  still,"  said  the  detective,  "this  is  an 
occurrence  of  every  half  hour.  It  is  a  fearful  place 
this.  I  have  brought  missionaries  from  Africa  here, 
and  they  tell  me  there  is  no  heathenism  in  Africa 
equal  to  this  in  Christian  London." 

Soon  we  heard  a  clear,  distinct  voice,  all  out  of 
place  in  the  din,  and  the  detective  said,  "  Follow  me, 
and  I  will  show  you  something  worth  looking  at." 


GLAD   TIDINGS.  125 

We  went  down  the  dim  street,  and  soon  came  up  to  a 
group,  evidently  composed  of  some  of  the  worst  class 
of  thieves  and  beggars,  surrounding  a  plain-looking 
man  in  a  fustian  jacket,  who  stood  with  his  back 
against  a  lamp-post;  at  his  feet  sat  seven  bleared, 
bloated,  gin-soaked  women  on  the  curbstone.  While 
we  stood  there  he  preached.  Holding  a  pocket  Tes- 
tament in  his  hand,  he  said,  "  I've  come  down  here  to 
bring  yer  good  news.  It  may  seem  strange  that  I 
should  come  to  a  place  like  this  'ere,  to  tell  you  good 
news,  but  the  book  what  I  hold  in  my  hand  says  it's 
glad  tidings  of  great  joy:  w^hich  is  to  all  people,  and 
that  means  us." 

Then  he  went  on  to  tell  of  one  that  was  "  King  in 
Heaven,  who  had  all  that  heart  could  wish;  the  very 
angels  bowed  down  afore  Him,  and  covered  their 
faces  when  they  spoke  to  Him:  and  He  looked  down 
on  this  'ere  world,  and  He  heard  the  people  a-crying, 
and  He  seen  'em  suffering,  and  He  came  down  to  help 
'em ;  but  they  wouldn't  have  nothing  to  do  with  Him. 
They  slapped  Him  in  the  face,  they  spit  on  Him,  and 
then  hung  Him  up  between  two  thieves."  Then  he 
said,  "Why,  my  friends,  He  might  have  sent  for 
twelve  regiments  of  His  Father's  soldiers,  and  swept 
His  enemies  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  but  He  didn't. 
Oh  no,  He  suffered  for  just  such  poor  creatures  as 
you  and  me.  ]STow  I  want  to  tell  ye  more  about  Him. 
He  never  turned  His  back  on  a  beggar;  nobody  ever 
came  to  Him,  that  He  told  'em  to  go  away.  There 
ain't  a  thief  that  He  wouldn't  welcome,  if  he'd  coom 
to  Him.  There  ain't  one  of  these  poor  women  with 
her  face  blackened  by  the  last  night's  fight,  but  His 
heart  is  full  of  sympathy  for  just  such  as  she  is. 
Why,  my  friends,  they  brought  a  woman  to  him,  what 


126  SAVED,   AND    SAVING   OTHERS. 

had  been  doing  wrong,  and  they  were  going  to  stone 
her  to  death  according  to  their  law.  What  did  He 
say  to  her?  Why,  He  didn't  say  nothing  till  every- 
body was  gone,  'cos  He  didn't  want  to  shame  the  poor 
creature.  And  when  they  was  all  gone,  He  spoke  to 
her  just  as  He  would  to  His  own  mother;  'Woman, 
where's  them  what's  accusing  of  yer?'  And  she 
said,  '  There  ain't  none.'  And  He  said,  '  ~No  more 
don't  I,  my  poor  child.  You  go  away,  and  don't  do  so 
any  more.'  That's  what  He  said  to  her."  One 
woman  lifted  up  her  hands,  and  said,  "  Oh,  my  God !  " 
another  swayed  herself  to  and  fro;  another  covered 
her  face  with  her  apron;  one  man  dashed  his  hand 
across  his  eyes  —  it  was  too  much  for  him.  That  was 
a  sermon,  powerful  in  its  application  to  the  class  who 
heard  it.  Many  of  these  street  preachers  are  mechan- 
ics and  working-men,  who  have  been  saved  them- 
selves, and  now,  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  are 
striving  to  save  others. 

Space  will  not  permit  me  to  enumerate  all  the  be- 
nevolent institutions  that  are  relieving  so  much  dis- 
tress. I  give  you  some  statistics  of  one  association, 
published  some  time  since.  This  is  the  "  Reformatory 
and  Refuge  Union."  There  were  thirty-four  institu- 
tions connected  with  and  controlled  by  it,  such  as 
refuges  for  destitute  boys  and  girls,  for  criminals,  for 
the  neglected,  for  the  homeless,  for  vagrants,  for 
young  girls  exposed  to  temptation  and  out  of  employ- 
ment, for  children  of  vicious  or  criminal  parents,  for 
deserted  children,  for  poor  servants  out  of  employ- 
ment, for  destitute  working-men,  for  those  discharged 
from  hospitals,  for  crippled  and  destitute  girls,  for 
women  discharged  from  prison,  for  degraded  outcast 
boys,  for  orphan  street-boys,  &c.,  &c.  Then  there 


CHAKRItfGTON  —  LING  —  MURPHY.  129 

are  "Dr.  Barnardo's  East-End  Juvenile  Mission," 
"  Home  for  Boys  "  at  Stepney,  and  the  "  Girls'  Home  "  at 
Lford.  The  "  Midnight  Meeting  Movement,"  "  Friend- 
less and  Fallen  Refuge,"  the  "  Boys'  Home,"  Dept- 
ford,  "  Poor  Cabman's  Society,"  "  Dock-Laborers' 
Mission,"  "  Destitute  Children's  Dinners,"  "  London 
Medical  Mission,"  "  Cow  Cross  Mission,"  "  Sick  Chil- 
dren's Dinners,"  "  Sermon  Lane  Free  Breakfasts," 
"  Woman's  Mission  to  Women,"  &c.  In  short,  the 
benevolent  and  Christian  enterprises  are  amazing  in 
their  extent. 

Then  there  is  Charrington's  Mission.  Mr.  Char- 
rington  was  the  son  of  a  brewer,  and  gave  up  a  for- 
tune for  conscience'  sake,  and  now  supports  a  nightly 
meeting,  and  is  doing  a  great  work.  Then  the  Cen- 
tral Hall  meetings  every  evening,  to  provide  for  the 
people  rational  amusement  and  instruction  without 
the  appendage  of  drink,  under  the  direction  of  Mr. 
Ling.  Then  the  meetings  at  the  "  Edinburgh  Castle," 
once  a  very  immoral  music-hall,  now,  under  the  super- 
intendence of  Dr.  Barnardo,  a  place  for  Christian  in- 
struction. Then  the  Lambeth  Baths,  where  the  Rev. 
G.  Murphy  has  the  charge,  and  provides  two  thou- 
sand people,  principally  of  the  working  classes,  valu- 
able instruction,  both  secular  and  religious,  every 
evening  from  November  till  May,  (the  rent  of  the 
Baths  paid  by  Samuel  Morley,  Esq.)  Then  there  are 
scores  of  Temperance  and  other  meetings  constantly 
held  in  various  parts  of  London,  all  of  which  it  is 
impossible  to  describe,  but  intensely  interesting  to 
visit. 

I  must  not  pass  over  Hoxton  Hall.  On  March  29, 
1878,  Hoxton  Music  Hall  —  which  had  been  a  nui- 
sance to  the  neighborhood,  and  the  ruin  of  many 


130  BLUE   RIBBON  AKMY. 

people,  old  and  young,  of  both  sexes  —  having  become 
a  music-hall  of  the  lowest  type,  and  lost  its  license 
through  the  abominations  practised  there,  was  hired 
by  Mr.  William  !N"oble  and  a  committee  for  three 
months,  as  an  experiment.  The  object  was  to  convert 
a  place  famous  for  its  vileness  into  a  place  for  instruc- 
tions in  righteousness,  by  holding  continuous  gospel 
temperance  meetings.  The  plan  was  so  eminently 
successful  that  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  take  the 
hall  for  a  further  period  of  twelve  months. 

At  the  expiration  of  that  time  those  engaged  in  the 
good  work  must  either  purchase  the  hall  or  give  up 
possession,  when  a  friend  who  had  taken  great  inter- 
est in  the  work  came  forward,  and  by  his  generosity 
the  freehold  was  purchased  and  vested  in  five  trustees, 
thus  giving  a  permanent  centre  to  the  good  work  so 
successfully  inaugurated.  The  hall  is  now  being  im- 
proved and  repaired,  soon  to  be  opened  and  devoted 
to  the  same  great  purpose.  Under  the  auspices  of 
the  "  Blue  Ribbon  Army,"  (the  name  given  to  the 
temperance  society  grown  out  of  the  work,)  there 
have  been  held  1,335  meetings,  with  an  aggregate 
attendance  of  813,830  persons.  This  is  an  entirely 
unsectarian  movement,  and  has  been  the  means  of 
rescuing  thousands  from  the  grasp  of  the  destroyer, 
Strong  Drink,  and  many  who  were  apparently  lost 
have  been  by  the  influence  of  these  gospel  temper- 
ance efforts  brought  to  the  saving  knowledge  of  the 
truth. 

I  visited  Hoxton  Hall  several  times.  Perhaps  I 
can  give  a  better  idea  of  the  work,  if  I  venture  to 
insert  the  following  notice  of  my  last  visit  there,  from 
the  "London  Times "  of  October  6,  1879: 


HOXTON  MUSIC   HALL.  131 

"On  Saturday  Mr.  Gough,  the  temperance  lecturer,  addressed  an 
audience  at  the  Hoxton  Temperance  Music  Hall,  Hoxton  Street,  com- 
posed mainly  of  '  reformed  men  and  women.'  The  hall  was  thronged 
an  hour  before  the  time  announced  for  the  lecture.  The  audience  was 
composed,  with  very  few  exceptions,  of  working-men  and  women,  and 
when  the  Rev.  J.  Johnstone,  in  the  prayer  prefacing  the  address,  begged 
for  the  Divine  guidance  of  those  who  had  fled  from  the  temptations  of 
drink,  a  fervid  '  Amen '  was  murmured  from  many  lips.  Sacred  songs, 
under  the  leadership  of  Mr.  William  Noble,  the  honorary  director  of 
the  gospel  temperance  movement,  were  sung  very  heartily  by  the 
people,  and  Mr.  Noble  then  asked  all  those  who  had  signed  the  pledge  in 
that  hall  to  stand  up.  Nearly  the  whole  of  the  audience  rose,  and  he 
proceeded  to  say  that  amcng  those  were  many  reformed  drunkards,  as 
well  as  reformed  men  and  women  who  had  been  moderate  drinkers. 
He  asked  them  to  repeat  their  vow,  and  they,  upstanding,  solemnly  said, 
'I  promise,  by  God's  help,  to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating  liquors,  and 
to  discountenance  their  use  in  others.  The  Lord  help  me  to  keep  this 
vow  for  Christ's  sake.  Amen.'  Mr.  Noble  went  on  to  say  that  Mr. 
Gough  had  given  upwards  of  thirty  addresses  to  the  working  classes  of 
London  without  fee  or  reward,  and  in  these  the  Hoxton  people  had 
largely  shared. 

"  Mr.  Gough  had  told  the  committee  of  the  Blue  Ribbon  Army,  that 
if  they  cared  to  take  a  large  hall  and  make  a  charge  for  admission,  his 
address  should  be  in  aid  of  the  fund  to  carry  on  that  mission,  and  if  they 
had  done  so  there  would  have  been  ten  thousand  people  to  hear  him ;  but 
the  committee  had  decided  to  have  a  meeting  whereat  the  people  who  had 
been  benefited  by  Mr.  Gough's  labors  could  assemble  to  bid  him  farewell. 
Mr.  James  Rae,  late  of  the  Royal  Artillery,  Mr.  Morgan,  and  Mr.  Robert 
Rae,  the  secretary  of  the  National  Temperance  League,  then  spoke,  and 
acknowledged  the  services  of  Mr.  Gough  to  the  Temperance  cause. 

"  On  behalf  of  the  mission,  Mr.  John  Smith,  a  French-polisher,  pre- 
sented Mr.  Gough  with  an  album  containing  portraits  of  those  who  had 
firmly  enlisted  themselves  in  the  Blue  Ribbon  Army.  When  Mr.  Gough 
stood  forward  to  receive  the  gift,  a  poor  woman  pressed  to  the  front  and 
presented  Mrs.  Gough  with  a  bouquet  of  autumnal  flowers.  Mr.  Gough, 
who  was  received  with  repeated  cheers,  said  he  was  unequal  to  the  task 
of  making  a  speech  that  night,  for  he  was  quite  exhausted.  Touching, 
however,  upon  the  fact  of  finding  devoted  gentlemen  acting  as  door- 
keepers to  that  hall,  he  said  he  would  rather  'be  in  that  position  himself 
than  have  all  the  profits  of  the  largest  Burton  ale  brewery  for  fifty  years. 
He  would  rather  have  the  lowest  menial  position  in  a  work  like  that  of 
the  Blue  Ribbon  Army,  than  hold  the  highest  position  in  a  work  coupled 
with  any  action  which  would  do  harm  to  a  single  soul.  He  proceeded  to 
address  his  audience  upon  the  pledge  which  they  had  repeated,  and  after 
remarking  that  it  was  thirty-seven  years  since  he  had  signed  a  similar 
pledge,  he  added  that  though  he  could  not  excuse  drunkenness,  yet  it 


132  WILLIAM  NOBLE'S  WORK. 

must  be  allowed  that  the  circumstances  under  which  drunkards  were 
made  were  different.  The  appetite  for  drink,  once  obtained,  never 
wholly  forsook  men.  It  would  come  to  them  with  maddening  force,  and 
they  must  pray,  not  to  be  kept  from  drunkenness,  but  from  the  appetite 
for  drink.  Mr.  Gough  resumed  his  seat  amid  loud  cheers ;  and  Mr.  T.  H. 
Ellis  detailed  the  steps  which  were  being  taken  to  enlarge  the  hall,  to 
carry  on  the  mission  week-days  and  Sundays." 

I  give  a  short  extract  from  the  "  Record "  relating 
to  the  same  meeting: 

"  We  may  state  incidentally  that  the  hall  has  now  been  opened  for 
more  than  five  hundred  and  eighty  consecutive  nights.  The  freehold  of 
the  building  has  been  purchased,  and  shortly  the  place  will  undergo 
repairs,  which  are  estimated  to  cost  £1,000,  of  which  money,  the  Hon. 
Sec.  stated,  the  friends  now  stand  in  need.  Indeed,  Hoxton  Hall  fell 
into  the  hands  of  its  present  occupiers  in  a  very  dilapidated  condition, 
and  with  the  odor  of  its  former  habitues  strong  about  it.  It  was  once  a 
so-called  place  of  entertainment.  Some  years  ago  we  remember  to  have 
seen  in  a  newspaper  an  account  of  how  it  was  opened  as  a  '  family 
theatre,'  and  then  it  was  stated  that  the  proprietors  intended  to  conduct 
it  in  a  manner  that  should  secure  the  support  of  the  well-to-do  working 
classes.  Whether  this  intention  was  honestly  adhered  to  or  not  we  are 
unable  to  say;  but  when  we  next  heard  of  the  'Hoxtoa  Theatre  of 
Varieties '  it  was  as  a  music-hall  of  the  lowest  character.  However,  in 
spite  of  the  drink,  in  spite  of  the  gewgaw  of  the  stage,  and  the  obscenity 
of  the  '  comic '  songs,  and  the  profits  which  this  combination  is  usually 
thought  to  bring,  the  place  fell  into  difficulties,  and  in  a  happy  moment 
it  was  secured  for  the  gospel  temperance  work  which  Mr.  Noble  has 
since  carried  on. 

"  It  was  to  this  place  that  Mr.  Gough  repaired  on  Saturday  night,  and 
was  received  with  a  heartiness  which  showed  that  his  intense  sympathy 
with  the  struggling  classes  is  not  misplaced  and  is  not  unappreciated. 
Some  of  the  proceedings  were  a  little  singular.  For  example,  we  do  not 
remember  ever  to  have  heard  a  lady  open  a  meeting  with  prayer,  and 
yet  this  was  the  case  here.  Neither  do  we  remember  such  hearty  sing- 
ing, or  the  impressive  occurrence  of  a  number  of  men  rising  in  the  body 
of  the  meeting  and  repeating  the  text  of  Scripture  uppermost  in  their 
minds,  —  perhaps  from  the  very  fact  that  they  were  those  which  had 
brought  the  most  comfort  to  their  own  souls.  Some  of  these  texts  were 
suggestive.  'Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  me,'  said  one;  'God  be 
merciful  to  me,  a  sinner,'  said  another;  'Do  thyself  no  harm,'  said  a 
third;  '  He  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  nowise  cast  out,'  said  a  fourth; 
'  Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,'  said  a  fifth;  '  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  dili- 
gence, for  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life,'  said  a  sixth ;  and  the  whole  of 
this  exercise  was  closed  with  the  Doxology." 


FULL   AND   ACTIVE    OPEKATIONS.  133 

I  would  state  that  on  Sundays  three  meetings  are 
held,  one  of  them  a  Sunday-school;  that  women's 
meetings  and  Bible-classes  are  also  held;  so  that 
there  are  many  gatherings  in  the  course  of  the  week. 

There  are  four  great  branches  of  *the  Temperance 
work  to  which  I  will  barely  allude  before  I  close 
this  section  of  my  book:  the  National  Temperance 
League,  Samuel  Bowly  president,  Robert  Rae  secre- 
tary; the  United  Kingdom  Alliance,  Sir  Wilfred  Law- 
son  president,  Thomas  Barker  secretary;  the  United 
Kingdom  Band  of  Hope  Union,  Samuel  Morley,  Esq., 
president;  and  the  Scottish  Temperance  League  for 
Scotland,  Hon.  Wm.  Collins  (at  present  the  Lord 
Provost  of  Glasgow)  president,  and  AVm.  Johnston 
secretary.  All  these  are  in  full  and  active  operation. 

The  United  Kingdom  Alliance,  under  the  indefati- 
gable labors  of  its  secretary  and  executive  board,  are 
constantly  agitating  the  political  question.  The  Band 
of  Hope  Union  principally  among  the  children,  and 
the  two  Leagues  for  the  promotion  of  total-abstinence 
principles  and  prohibition  of  the  liquor  traffic.  Then 
the  Good  Templars  are  rendering  efficient  service. 
The  enterprises  formed  as  auxiliaries  to  the  great 
work  are  very  numerous. 

There  is  the  "  Medical  Temperance  Society ; "  and 
nearly  every  town  and  religious  denomination  in  the 
kingdom  has  its  efficient  society.  Then  the  "  London 
Temperance  Hospital"  has  been  in  operation  about 
six  years,  and  during  that  time  about  eight  thousand 
patients  have  passed  under  treatment,  eight  hundred 
of  whom  have  required  continual  nursing  and  clinical 
treatment.  Alcohol  has  been  excluded  from  all  these 
eight  thousand  cases,  with  one  exception,  and  in  that 
one  case  the  result  was  unfavorable.  So  that  while 
9 


134      THANK  GOD  AND  TAKE  COURAGE. 

intemperance  abounds,  there  are  earnest,  self-denying, 
noble  efforts  to  dry  up  this  fearful  ulcer,  this  moral 
pollution,  which,  if  unhealed,  must  constantly  and 
powerfully  increase  the  corruption  and  hasten  the 
decay  of  the  nation. 

As  we  rejoice  in  these  efforts,  and  in  so  much  of 
success  as  has  crowned  them,  let  us  remember  that 
other  eyes  than  ours  have  been  watching  these  efforts 
to  save.  Even  the  eye  of  Christian  faith  sees  but 
dimly  the  "joy  among  the  angels  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth."  But  as  we  remember  this,  there  come 
these  blessed  companion-words  of  Holy  Writ:  "He 
that  converteth  the  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way 
shall  save  a  soul  from  death  and  shall  hide  a  multitude 
of  sins ; "  and  remembering  also  that  "  prevention  is 
better  than  cure,"  we  will  thank  God  and  take  courage, 
believing  that  in  His  own  good  time  He  will  crown 
every  good  work  with  His  approval ;  and  then,  though 
we  may  have  sown  in  tears,  we  shall  reap  in  joy,  and 
as  we  go  home  laden  with  sheaves  we  shall  be  wel- 
comed as  co-laborers  with  Him  in  preventing  sin  and 
saving  men. 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

TRAGEDIES.  —  THE    SHADY   SIDE   OF  LITE. 

Power  of  Kindness  —  The  Scotch  Minister  and  the  "Brute "  —  "I'll  kick 
you  down  stairs  "  —  "  The  most  God-forsaken  Wretch  on  Earth  "  — 
Perseverance  rewarded — "Clothed  and  in  his  Right  Mind" — The 
States  Prison  Convict  —  "  The  Cold,  Glittering  Eye  "  —  The  Hard 
Heart  melted  —  The  Mother's  Influence  —  Scene  in  Gray's  -  Inn 
Lane  —  The  Excited  Crowd  —  The  Tattered  Group,  and  Death 
among  them — The  "Bullet-headed  Man"  —  "'Ere's  a  Swell  vants 
to  know  vat's  the  Matter "  —  Alone  with  the  Mob  —  An  Easy  Es- 
cape —  Men  beyond  Sympathy  —  The  Toad  in  the  Stone  —  The 
Murderer  in  the  Portland  Prison  —  Celebrating  his  Release  by  a 
Booze  —  Human  Parasites  —  Tramps  —  Soup-Kitchens  —  Getting 
Something  for  Nothing  —  Able-bodied  "Sponges  on  the  Generous." 

\€n5^  HERE  are  but  few  instances  in  which 
kindness  has  been  fairly  exercised 
where  it  has  not  subdued  the  enmity 
opposed  to  it.  Its  first  effort  will  not 
probably  succeed,  any  more  than  one 
shower  of  rain  will  reclaim  the  burn- 
ing desert;  but  shed  the  dew  of  its 
holy  influence  repeatedly  on  the  revenge- 
ful soul,  and  it  may  become  beautiful  with 
the  flowers  of  tenderness.  Let  any  person  put  the 
question  to  his  soul  whether  under  any  circumstances 
he  can  deliberately  resist  continued  kindness.  Good 
is  omnipotent  in  overcoming  evil.  I  know  there  are 
hard  cases,  —  men  who  will  resist  and  resent  every 
approach;  but,  from  my  experience  and  observation, 

135 


136  "HE  is  A  BRUTE.* 

I  believe  there  are  few  so  hardened  but  persevering, 
judicious  kindness  will  touch  some  spot  in  the  heart; 
for  they  are  human. 

A  minister  of  the  gospel  —  a  parish  minister  in 
Scotland  —  told  me  that  when  he  first  went  to  Glas- 
gow he  determined  that  he  would  call  on  every  indi- 
vidual in  his  parish,  —  every  one.  But  there  was  one 
man  of  whom  he  was  afraid.  His  friends  said,  "  Do 
not  call  on  him;  he  may  do  you  a  mischief;  it  will  do 
him  no  good ;  he  is  a  brute."  "  Well,"  the  minister 
said,  "  though  I  felt  ashamed  of  my  cowardice,  yet 
day  after  day  and  week  after  week  passed,  and,  while 
I  visited  every  one  else,  I  did  not  call  on  this  man. 
One  morning,  feeling  exceedingly  well,  —  the  sky  was 
bright,  the  sun  shining,  the  trees  lovely  in  their  foli- 
age, just  the  morning  when  a  man  feels  the  warm 
blood  healthily  coursing  through  his  veins,  —  I  said, 
'I  will  see  that  man  to-day;  I  am  in  just  the  right 
trim  for  it.":  He  went,  up  three  or  four  pairs  of 
stairs,  knocking  at  the  door.  No  answer.  He 
knocked  again,  —  no  answer;  yet  again,  —  no  an- 
swer. He  opened  the  door  and  went  in.  As  he  saw 
the  poor  creature  crouching  by  the  empty  fireplace, 
he  became  somewhat  alarmed,  and  wished  himself 
away.  The  man's  hair  was  tangled,  his  clothing  in 
rags,  his  person  filthy,  a  four-weeks'  beard  on  his 
face,  his  cheeks  sunken  and  cadaverous.  As  he 
turned  towards  him,  there  was  a  wild  glare  in  his 
fierce  eyes  that  fairly  made  his  flesh  creep.  The  first 
words  the  poor  wretch  uttered  were : 

"  "Who  are  you?  " 

"  I  am  the  minister." 

"  Minister!     What  do  you  want?  " 

"  I  have  called  to  see  you." 


"I'M  NOT   MUCH   TO    SEE."  137 

The  man  rose  upon  his  feet.  "And  then,"  said  the 
minister,  "  I  expected  a  struggle,  and  began  to  think 
where  I  should  take  him,  for  I  was  determined  not  to 
give  him  up."  The  man,  coming  closer,  stretched 
out  his  hand  and  said: 

"  You've  come  to  see  me,  have  you?  Then  see  me  I 
Do  you  like  the  looks  of  me?  I'm  not  much  to  see, 
am  I?  Come  to  see  me!  " 

Then  he  came  a  step  or  two  nearer,  and  the  hot 
breath  steamed  into  the  minister's  face  as  he  said, 

"  ^sfow  I'll  kick  you  down-stairs." 

"  Stop,  stop !  Don't  kick  me  down  the  stairs  now, 
for  I  have  a  call  to  make  above,  and  if  you  kick  me 
down  now,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  come  all  the  way  up 
again,  don't  you  see?  !N"ow,  if  it  will  be  any  gratifi- 
cation to  you  to  kick  the  minister  down-stairs,  who 
has  come  to  you  out  of  pure  kindness  and  good-will, 
let  me  go  and  make  my  visit,  and  then  I  will  place 
myself  at  your  disposal.  That's  fair !  " 

"  Well,  you  are  a  rum  one !  "  and  he  shuffled  back 
to  his  seat. 

The  minister  made  his  call,  and  upon  returning, 
opened  the  door  and  said: 

"  Now,  my  man,  here  I  am.  I  told  you  I  would 
call  again.  If  it  will  be  any  gratification  to  you  to 
kick  me  down-stairs,  I  am  at  your  disposal." 

"  Did  you  come  to  see  me?  " 

"Yes,  I  did." 

"  Sit  down ; "  and  he  began  to  talk  with  him,  not  as 
if  he  were  a  brute,  but  as  a  man  and  a  brother.  Soon 
the  poor  creature  cried  out,  while  the  tears  ran  down 
his  face,  "  Oh,  sir,  I  am  the  most  God-forsaken  wretch 
on  earth ! "  Then  he  told  of  a  wife  and  children,  of 
sorrow,  sin,  degradation,  and  despair.  The  minister 


138  A  VlfRT  HARD    CASE. 

poured  the  oil  of  sympathy  into  his  broken  heart. 
Many  other  interviews  followed;  and  now,  restored 
to  wife,  children,  and  society,  he  has  been  for  some 
years  a  constant  attendant  on  the  ministrations  of  the 
man  who  by  persevering  kindness  had  touched  the 
fountain  of  feeling  in  the  heart  so  long  hard.  It  pays 
to  persevere. 

In  my  own  experience,  I  have  found  among  those 
who  seemed  the  most  reckless  and  hardened  some 
spot  in  the  heart  that  was  vulnerable,  some  chord 
that  can  be  touched.  Once  while  speaking  to  the 
convicts  in  one  of  the  State  prisons,  a  man  sat  before 
me  with  a  face  almost  demoniac  in  its  expression:  it 
was  a  face  that  repelled  and  yet  attracted  me ;  it  was 
what  some  one  has  called  the  "  attraction  of  repul- 
sion." As  he  fixed  his  eye  on  me,  cold  and  steely, 
with  the  cynical  curl  of  the  lips  and  a  sneer,  he  almost 
fascinated  me,  and  I  thought  of  Coleridge's  lines  in 
the  "Ancient  Mariner,"  — 

"  He  held  him  with  his  glittering  eye." 

My  wonder  was,  Who  can  he  be?  Evidently  a  man 
of  large  brain,  of  more  than  average  intelligence; 
and  while  he  fascinated,  he  embarrassed  me.  The 
thoughts  that  flashed  through  my  mind  while  I  was 
speaking  were,  "I  cannot  move  this  man;  my  words 
fall  on  him  like  soft  snow  on  a  rock.  I  wish  he 
would  not  look  on  me."  I  became  almost  confused, 
and  saw  a  smile  pass  over  his  face,  —  a  half-con- 
temptuous smile,  —  as  if  he  were  conscious  of  the 
power  he  possessed.  Seemingly,  by  concentrating  all 
his  powers  of  will,  he  had  almost  gained  control  of 
me.  I  turned  from  him  with  an  effort,  and  said, 
"  There  may  be  some  before  me  who  think  they  are 


POWER   OF   KIND   WORDS.  139 

hardened,  are  past  feeling;  God  only  knows  whether 
they  are  or  not;  but  often  we  cultivate  that  hardness, 
when  the  world  turns  against  us.  There  may  be 
some  here  who  had  a  good  mother;  and  even  here, 
when  alone  in  your  cell,  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
you  remember  that  mother,  and  the  little  prayer 
she  taught  you  as  you  knelt  at  her  side,  and  her 
gentle,  loving  hand  rested  on  your  head.  You  almost 
hear  the  words  whispered  in  your  ear;  and  no  human 
eye  seeing  you,  the  tears  come,  and  you  are  melted 
into  tenderness ;  but  in  the  morning  you  harden  your- 
self again  into  recklessness."  I  said  something  like 
this,  steadily  keeping  my  face  turned  from  the  man, 
when  I  was  interrupted  by  so  bitter  a  cry, — "Oh,  my 
God !  "  —  that  I  turned,  and  the  man,  who  had  risen 
to  utter  the  exclamation,  had  sunk  in  his  seat  and  was 
audibly  sobbing.  I  was  told  by  one  of  the  officers  of 
the  prison  that  he  was  one  of  the  hardest  cases,  the 
most  repelling,  the  most  oblivious  to  kindness  of  any 
man  that  had  ever  come  under  his  supervision.  The 
remembrance  of  a  mother  whose  heart  he  may  have 
broken  melted  the  strong  man,  and  he  became  as  a 
little  child. 

Sometimes,  even  among  those  whom  society  throws 
out  as  things  unworthy  of  love  or  pity,  a  kind  word 
may  produce  a  wonderful  effect:  among  those  who 
prey  on  society,  thieves  or  worse,  an  expression  of 
sympathy,  or  an  act  of  kindness,  will  touch  the  one 
vulnerable  spot  in  their  hearts,  and  the  social  tiger 
becomes  human. 

On  one  occasion,  some  years  ago,  I  was  strolling  on 
a  tour  of  observation  up  Holborn  Hill,  —  this  was  be- 
fore the  splendid  Holborn  viaduct  was  engineered,  — 
and  I  turned  into  Gray's  Inn  Lane.  On  the  opposite 


140  A   SINISTER-LOOKING  ANIMAL. 

side  of  the  street,  around  the  entrance  to  a  court,  in 
a  very  bad  locality,  I  saw  a  group  of  tatterdemalions, 
men,  women,  and  children,  some  fluttering  in  rags, 
the  very  refuse  of  the  slums,  evidently  in  a  state  of 
great  excitement;  something  out  of  the  common 
order  had  occurred. 

As  I  was  curious  to  know,  for  I  often  learn  some 
lessons  from  the  street  folk,  and  get  some  ideas  of 
strange  phases  of  human  nature  in  a  crowd,  I  crossed 
over.  Expecting  to  hear  some  foul  language,  some- 
what in  character  with  the  appearance  of  the  crowd  I 
was  approaching,  I  soon  heard  expressions  like  these : 
"Ah,  God  bless  me,  deary,  deary  me,  poor  thing; 
well,  well,  ah  well,  poor  thing."  These  were  words 
of  sympathy  from  human  hearts  for  human  sorrow. 
A  man  had  fallen  from  a  scaffold  in  a  neighboring 
street,  and  was  being  brought  home  dead;  and  all 
this  commotion  was  sympathy  for  the  newly-made 
widow  and  her  children.  On  the  outskirts  stood  a 
very  bad-looking  man,  with  the  closely  cropped  bullet- 
head.  The  bull-neck,  the  tiger-jaw,  the  small  light- 
blue  eye,  a  sinister-looking  animal,  one  you  would  not 
care  to  meet  alone  in  a  dark  street  at  night.  He  had 
a  cat-skin  cap,  a  belcher  handkerchief  tied  loosely 
round  his  neck,  and  he  evidently  belonged  to  what 
are  termed  the  criminal  classes.  I  said  to  him: 

"What's  the  matter  here,  sir?" 

He  turned  his  eye  full  on  me  for  a  moment,  and 
then  said  to  the  crowd: 

"  Stand  out  of  the  vay,  vill  ye !  'ere's  a  swell  vants 
to  know  vat's  the  matter." 

I  was  not  much  of  a  swell,  but  I  did  want  to  know 
what  the  matter  was. 

A  woman  told  me  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  point- 


A  DANGEROUS   CROWD.  143 

ing  to  a  miserably-looking  faded  creature,  with  three 
or  four  ragged  children  clinging  to  her  skirts,  said: 

"  That's  the  woman  that's  lost  her  husband." 

I  was  startled  by  this  time  to  find  that  the  crowd 
had  closed  in  upon  me,  and  I  must  confess  I  was 
frightened ;  my  knees  grew  weak,  and  I  felt  a  dryness 
of  my  lips  and  throat  from  apprehension.  Quickly  it 
flashed  through  my  mind  —  quicker  than  I  can  write 
it, —  "  Here  I  am  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  the  worst 
characters  in  London.  I  am  shut  out  from  all  help; 
no  policeman  near  should  they  see  fit  to  assault  me. 
I  have  a  gold  watch  in  my  pocket,  gold  and  silver 
in  my  purse.  Some  of  these  men  and  boys  are  thieves 
by  profession;  I  do  not  like  it.  They  might  strike 
ine  a  blow,  drag  me  down  this  court,  and  no  one 
would  be  the  wiser.  I  should  be  missing,"  &c.,  &c. 
All  this  was  very  foolish,  perhaps.  The  bullet-headed 
man  was  close  to  me,  and  I  did  not  like  that;  my 
sensations  were  not  agreeable. 

Summoning  up  courage,  I  turned  to  this  man,  and 
pointing  to  the  woman,  I  said: 

"Is  this  woman  very  poor,  sir?" 

He  replied,  savagely: 

"Vat  do  you  mean  by  that,  hey?  Poor?  God 
Almighty  help  the  woman!  Look  at  her,  vill  ye?" 

I  did  look:  all  the  womanhood  apparently  crushed 
out  of  her.  So  I  boldly  pulled  out  my  purse,  as  I  said : 

"  Well,  she  looks  as  if  she  needed  help ;  poor  thing, 
I  am  willing  to  help  her.  I'll  give  her  a  half  sov- 
ereign, if  it  will  do  her  any  good.  Shall  I  give  it 
to  you,  sir,  or  to  some  of  these  women,  or  shall  I 
give  it  to  the  poor  woman  herself  ?  " 

"  God  bless  you,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  women ;  "  give 
it  to  'er,  she  needs  it  bad." 


144          CALLOUS  AND  DEGRADED. 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  another. 

One  with  a  blackened  eye  said,  holding  up  a  child: 

"  Here's  one  of  the  children,  sir."  I  turned  to  go 
away.  A  passage  was  opened  for  me;  and  though 
I  am  convinced  there  were  men  there  who  would 
have  garrotted  me  for  a  shilling,  or  brained  me  with 
a  life-preserver  for  half  a  crown,  yet  every  man, 
as  I  passed  out  of  the  crowd,  touched  his  rag  of  a 
cap,  and  said,  "  Thank  ye,  sir ;  "  and  even  my  friend 
with  the  belcher,  and  the  cat-skin  cap  fitting  close  to 
his  cropped  head,  looked  more  like  a  human  being 
than  an  animal. 

Yet  I  am  compelled  to  the  conviction,  that  there 
are  men  and  women  thoroughly  hardened  —  we 
might  almost  say,  heartless.  No  kindness  can  move 
them,  no  sympathy  touch  them;  who  glory  in  their 
hardness,  and  seem  proud  that  they  are  "  past  feel- 
ing." The  author  of  the  "  Mock  Doctor  "  says :  "  Some 
men  have  hearts  so  thoroughly  bad  as  to  remind  us  of 
the  phenomena  often  mentioned  in  Natural  History, 
namely,  a  mass  of  solid  stone,  only  to  be  opened  by 
force,  and  when  divided,  you  discover  a  toad  in  the 
centre,  lively,  and  with  the  reputation  of  being  ven- 
omous." There  are  those  that  seem  to  become  stolid, 
obtuse,  or  case-hardened  by  a  continual  course  of 
recklessness,  when  the  moral  sense  becomes  stultified. 

I  give  a  fact  as  an  illustration.  A  man  in  the  Port- 
land prison,  England,  was  convicted  of  manslaughter 
(it  should  have  been  murder),  and  sentenced  for  five 
years.  In  a  public-house  brawl  he  had  killed  a  man. 
He  said  he  had  no  animosity  against  the  man,  and 
that  if  he  had  been  sober  he  would  never  have  hurt  him; 
and  yet  this  man,  who  knew  that  drink  had  made  him  a 
murderer,  was  so  callous  and  degraded,  that  as  his 


BEGGAKS  AND  TRAMPS.  145 

term  of  imprisonment  drew  to  a  close,  he  boasted  that 
the  gratification  he  promised  himself  after  his  release, 
was  a  drunken  booze  at  the  very  tavern  which  had 
been  the  scene  of  the  murder.  Let  us  hope  such 
cases  are  very  rare.  Yet  we  know  there  are  men, 
and  women  too,  who  trade  on  the  benevolence  and 
generosity  of  the  soft-hearted,  in  whose  breasts  there 
is  no  response  to  the  kind  word;  in  whom  all  ap- 
preciation of  kindness  is  dead.  Such  become  the 
parasites  of  the  body  politic  in  civilized  communities ; 
and  every  bit  of  benevolent  effort  towards  them  only 
hardens  them,  till  they  sink  into  the  mean  begging 
letter-writers,  or  the  not  less  mean  sponges  on  the 
generous. 

Of  this  class  are  many  of  the  tramps  that  have 
been  like  an  incubus  on  the  industrious  and  prudent. 
These  persons  are  ever  to  be  found  at  the  soup- 
kitchens,  free  breakfasts,  mingling  with  the  deserving 
poor,  and  often  obtaining  the  lion's  share  of  the 
charity, —  able-bodied  men  who  will  not  work,  whose 
sole  business  it  is  to  get  something  for  nothing;  so 
that  the  system,  sustained  by  the  benevolent  as  a 
charity,  tends  to  pauperize,  rather  than  to  stimulate  to 
effort  and  industry. 

I  have  more  than  once  offered  able-bodied  men 
work,  and  they  have  given  some  frivolous  excuse.  I 
have  induced  some  to  work,  and  with  the  first  result 
of  honest  labor  in  money,  they  have,  on  some  pretext, 
left  for  the  town,  only  to  indulge  in  a  heavy  drunk. 

A  year  or  two  since,  at  a  free  breakfast  given  to 
four  or  five  hundred  of  these  men  out  of  employment, 
Sir  Alderman  Garden  offered  to  give  work  at  three 
shillings  per  day  to  any  really  desirous  of  earning  a 
living.  A  number  of  hands  were  held  up,  and  some 


146  REFUSAL   TO  WORK. 

sixty  or  seventy  finally  resolved  to  accept  the  ofler. 
Not  one  of  them  continued  at  work  for  a  year,  and 
most  of  them  gave  out  long  before  the  expiration  of 
that  time.  The  soup-kitchen,  the  casual  ward,  the 
chances  of  what  they  can  pick  up  in  the  streets,  are 
preferred  by  such  men  to  honest  labor. 

A  friend  of  mine  met  one  of  these  loafing  gentry 
begging. 

"  What  do  you  want?  " 

"  A  job,  if  you  please." 

"  Well,  what  will  you  come  and  work  in  my  garden 
for?" 

"  Half  a  crown  a  day." 

"  Well,  you  come  to-morrow,  and  I  will  give  you 
three  shillings." 

The  man  went  away  apparently  delighted  at  the 
thought  of  earning  three  shillings  a  day;  but  he 
never  came  near  the  place  again.  One  of  the  surest 
ways  to  get  rid  of  such  leeches  is  to  set  them  to 
work.  Real  helpless  deserving  poverty  often  hides  its 
rags,  and  shudders  at  publicity;  but  the  idle  "ne'er 
do  well,"  without  a  blush  go  straight  to  the  poor-box 
or  the  soup-kitchen. 


CHAPTER  X. 

AMONG  THE  POOR.  —  THE  TRAFFIC  IN  DRINK.  — 
SOCIETY'S  CURSE. 

Sunday-Morning  Breakfasts  for  Waifs  —  Homeless  Multitudes  —  A 
Strange  Audience  —  Economizing  for  a  Drink  —  The  Man  who 
loved  Beer  —  His  heroic  Self-Defence  —  A  Pint  every  Two  Hours 
—  "  Breakfast  for  Nothing  "  —  Thirty  Years  lost  —  Drink,  the  Cause 
and  Curse  of  Poverty  —  Soup-Kitchen  in  Glasgow  —  Free  Sunday- 
Morning  Breakfasts  in  Edinburgh  —  Seventeen  Hundred  Victims  of 
Drink  —  "  We  get  Hot  Victuals  at  Home  "  —  "  Ducks  and  Green 
Peas  "  —  "  Good  Times  "  turned  to  "  Hard  Times  "  —  Extravagance 
of  the  Poor  —  Satire  of  "Punch"  — The  Irish  Famine  —  Distilleries 
at  Work  —  "Irish  Distress,  Irish  Drinking"  —  Burton-on-Trent  — . 
Bass's  Beer-Mills  — Bass's  Annual  Beer-Profits  £450,000  —  The  Drink 
Bill  —  London  Paper  upon  Mr.  Bass,  M.P. 

T  has  been  the  custom  for  years  to  pro- 
vide a  breakfast  of  bread  and  cocoa  on 
Sunday  mornings  at  the  Field  Lane  In- 
stitution in  London  for  the  waifs  who, 
sleeping  in  the  casual  wards  of  the 
workhouse,  are  litera-lly  without  house 
or  home;  and  the  large  room,  capable  of 
seating  seven  or  eight  hundred  persons, 
is  generally  crowded.  They  are  admitted 
about  ten  o'clock.  A  simple  religious  exercise  lasting 
an  hour  is  closed  soon  after  twelve.  Then  a  meal  is 
served,  sufficiently  substantial  to  appease  the  pangs 
of  hunger,  but  not  appetizing  enough  to  tempt  those 
who  are  not  absolutely  in  need  of  it. 

147 


148  FIELD   LANE    INSTITUTION. 

The  Field  Lane  institution  is  truly  a  Christian 
work  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  and  has  been  exten- 
sively useful  in  educating  thousands  of  children  who 
would  probably  have  grown  up  in  ignorance,  and 
perhaps  crime.  It  has  provided  shelter  and  food  for 
multitudes  of  homeless  wanderers  who  seemed  "  ready 
to  perish;"  while  boys  in  large  numbers  have  been 
apprenticed  to  trades,  and  hundreds  of  girls  have 
received  suitable  training  for  domestic  service.  Many 
illustrations  can  be  given  by  the  officers  of  the  insti- 
tution of  the  great  good  their  agencies  have  been  the 
means  of  accomplishing. 

One  Sunday  morning  I  went  by  invitation  to  speak 
to  the  poor  creatures  who  came  in  for  the  free  break- 
fast. A  lady  who  was  present  that  morning  wrote  a 
letter  in  the  evening  to  a  friend,  in  which  she  says : 
"All  day  long  I  have  seen  the  faces  of  that  audience 
before  me,  —  the  hopeless,  the  careless,  the  weak  in 
purpose,  the  improvident,  those  just  plunged  in  the 
hungry  gulf,  some  with  the  inherited  stains,  and  all 
together  such  a  mass ! "  It  was  a  painful  sight,  and 
when  I  rose  to  address  them,  I  felt  —  as  I  always  do 
before  such  an  audience  —  a  strange  embarrassment. 
I  felt  for  them  a  deep  sympathy,  and  yet  there  were 
some  to  whom  the  scanty  charity  was  not  "  a  means 
of  grace,"  who  were  the  more  hardened  by  the  be- 
nevolence, and  who  simply  endured  the  singing,  pray- 
ing, and  speaking  for  an  hour  that  they  might  get  the 
cocoa  and  bread  without  spending  the  money  they 
needed  for  the  drink.  At  the  close  of  my  short 
speech  a  lady  said  to  me,  "  There's  a  man  who  wishes 
to  speak  to  you."  I  went  to  the  corner  of  the  room 
where  he  was  seated,  and  I  noticed  that  three  or  four 
men  who  sat  near  him  had  a  strange  look  of  expec- 


UNDESERVING  POOR.  149 

tancy,  and  the  man  had  an  assured  look  of  confidence, 
—  such  a  look  as  one  might  have  on  the  eve  of  a  vic- 
tory: he  had  evidently  sent  for  me  to  chaff  me,  and 
the  other  men  were  confident  that  their  mate  would 
let  the  "  temperance  bloke  "  down  a  few  pegs. 

The  man  began  in  quite  an  impudent  style,  "  Did  I 
understand  you  to  say  that  you  would  take  away  the 
poor  man's  beer?  "  and  without  waiting  for  any  reply, 
he  continued,  "  Do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to  give 
up  my  beer?  No,  sir,  no!  I  couldn't  think  of  such 
a  thing,  —  oh  no,  sir,  couldn't  possibly  think  of  such 
a  thing!  ha,  ha!  No,  sir!  Give  up  my  beer?"  and 
with  that  voluble  chaff  tickling  his  mates,  who  wore  a 
broad  grin  on  their  faces.  "  Let  me  see :  I  shall  have 
work  next  week,  and  then  I'll  have  a  pint  of  beer 
every  two  hours,  —  a  pint  in  all  every  two  hours,  —  a 
half-pint  every  hour  all  next  week !  Would  you  take 
that  away  from  me?  Only  think,  a  pint  every  two 
hours !  I  can  get  a  pint  for  twopence :  a  half-pint  is 
three  halfpence;  so  I  get  more  for  the  money  by 
taking  a  pint  every  two  hours ; "  and  so  he  went  oil 
awhile. 

I  stood  mute  till  he  rested ;  then  I  said,  "  Do  not 
suppose,  my  man,  that  I  shall  interfere  with  your 
beer-drinking;  it  is  nothing  to  me,  personally,  what 
or  how  much  you  drink.'  Drink  a  quart  every  hour, 
if  you  can  get  it;  but  don't  you  think  it  is  shockingly 
mean,  and  miserably  contemptible,  to  brag  about  how 
much  you  will  drink  next  week,  and  sneak  in  here  to 
get  a  breakfast  for  nothing,  —  to  boast  of  a  pint  every 
two  hours  for  twopence  a  pint,  while  you  hold  in  your 
hands  the  bread  and  cocoa  provided  by  charity  for  the 
hungr}^  and  destitute?  Had  you  not  better  save  one 
or  two  of  the  twopences  to  buy  a  breakfast  for  your- 


150  PAUPERISM. 

self  next  Sunday  morning,  than  to  sit  with  the  de- 
serving, honest  recipient  of  this  charity?" 

The  man's  face  was  white,  and  as  I  turned  to  go 
away,  one  of  the  men  said,  "  Well,  Jem,  you  got  it 
hot  this  time !  " 

The  great  difficulty  in  dispensing  these  charities  is 
to  keep  out  those  that  are  undeserving,  and  who  make 
capital  of,  and  trade  on,  the  benevolence  of  these  in- 
stitutions. At  the  close  of  the  service,  and  after 
breakfast,  a  man  wished  to  sign  the  pledge.  As  he 
took  the  pen,  he  said,  "  I  wish  I  had  done  this  Fri- 
day," as  he  had  spent  twelve  shillings  in  drink  on 
Saturday  night,  and  had  nothing  left  to  pay  for  bed 
or  breakfast.  Another  man  came  up  and  said  he  had 
heard  me  thirty  years  ago  in  New  York,  and  he 
wished  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  had  taken  the 
advice  then.  In  all,  thirty-nine  names  were  regis- 
tered on  the  pledge.  This  reveals  the  cause  of  the 
terrible  degradation  and  suffering  to  be  seen  in  our 
great  cities,  and  the  constant  call  for  help. 

Sir  Wilfred  Lawson  said  in  Exeter  Hall  last  year, 
"  Pauperism,  that  great  sore  of  the  body  politic ! 
why,  you  all  know  that  drink  is  almost  the  only  cause. 
I  do  not  wish  to  overstate  the  fact  of  pauperism  in 
this  country."  The  same  may  be  said  with  truth  in 
America.  A  late  editor  in  Philadelphia  said,  "  Close 
all  the  grog-shops  in  the  United  States,  and  all  the 
poverty  could  be  relieved  by  the  present  existing  pri- 
vate charities,  and  in  this  republic  there  need  not  be  an 
almshouse."  In  the  winter  of  1878-79  an  immense 
soup-kitchen  was  established  in  Glasgow;  the  Lord 
Provost  took  charge  of  it.  Thousands  and  thousands 
of  people  went  through  his  hands,  he  giving  them 
relief.  He  took  the  trouble  of  inquiring  into  the 


IMPROVIDENCE.  151 

cases  individually,  and  he  found  that  there  was  not 
one  teetotaller  who  came  to  ask  for  soup. 

John  Butters,  Esq.,  in  a  letter  to  the  Lord  Bishop 
of  Peterborough,  says  that  "  in  Edinburgh  there  is 
an  average  attendance  of  twelve  hundred  every  Sun- 
day morning  at  the  free  breakfast,  who  are,  with  the 
exception  of  a  mere  fraction,  victims  of  drink.  On 
New  Year's  Eve  there  were  assembled  in  the  Drill- 
hall  of  Edinburgh  seventeen  hundred  and  fifty  of 
these  people,  old  and  young:  with  fewer  than  fifty 
exceptions,  they  were  all  drunkards,  or  the  suffering 
offspring  of  drunkards." 

A  little  fellow  was  asked  by  a  lady,  "  Why  do  you 
not  come  for  cold  victuals  anymore?"  and  replied, 
"  Father's  signed  the  pledge,  and  we  get  hot  victuals 
at  home." 

I  need  not  multiply  evidence:  the  people  know 
that  drunkenness  and  consequent  improvidence  is  the 
cause  of  seven  eighths  of  the  poverty  here  and  in 
Great  Britain.  I  have  it  on  good  authority  that 
during  the  "good  times,"  as  they  were  termed  in 
England,  three  or  four  years  ago,  men  who  earned 
from  five  to  six  pounds  per  week  had  nothing  by 
Thursday  or  Friday.  One  man  bought  a  whole  suit 
of  expensive  sealskin,  and  was  found  in  the  gutter 
drunk,  and  the  sealskin  soaked  with  the  refuse  of  the 
streets. 

Men  who  were  earning  large  wages  —  five,  six,  or 
seven  pounds  a  week  —  were,  many  of  them,  the  first 
to  apply  for  charity  when  the  hard  times  came.  They 
had  lived  extravagantly:  as  a  lady  said  to  me,  they 
would  have  ducks  and  green  peas  before  their  em- 
ployers thought  they  could  afford  them;  they  would 
drink  champagne,  and  spend  in  treating  011  their  pay- 
10 


152  HOW   TO   COOK  A  PINEAPPLE. 

night  two  or  three  pounds.  Some  would  keep  dogs 
for  the  purpose  of  fighting,  and  many,  even  when 
receiving  charity,  retained  the  dog,  and  fed  that  while 
the  children  were  suffering.  The  improvidence  of  a 
certain  class  of  workingmen  is  frightfully  reckless. 
That  satire  in  "Punch"  had  truth  in  it,  in  which  a 
lady  complains  to  the  greengrocer  that  pineapples  are 
too  expensive  for  her.  "  Why,  seven  shillings  for  a 
pineapple?  I  must  wait  till  they  are  cheaper."  A 
miner  came  by  in  his  rough  clothes,  and  cried,  "  Give 
it  to  me ;  I'll  give  ye  ten  shillings  for  it,  if  ye'll  tell 
me  how  to  cook  him." 

There  is,  and  has  been  for  some  time,  great  distress 
among  the  unemployed  in  England;  and  in  Ireland  it 
seems  to  have  culminated  in  a  famine,  and  calls  are 
made  for  help,  to  which  the  people  of  this  country 
have  grandly  responded.  God  forbid  that  I  should 
say  one  word  to  check  the  flow  of  charity,  or  to 
depreciate  the  suffering  that  calls  it  forth;  but  will 
there  be  one  gallon  less  whisky  distilled  for  the  scar- 
city of  food?  Will  one  fire  of  a  distillery  or  brew- 
ery be  extinguished?  Not  all  the  tears  of  starving 
thousands  can  stop  that  business.  In  the  last  fam- 
ine, of  1848,  it  was  stated  that  many  million  quar- 
ters of  grain  were  destroyed  in  Ireland  for  whisky. 
When  children  were  found  dead  with  the  sea-weed 
they  had  been  sucking  for  nourishment  between  their 
teeth ;  when,  as  I  was  told  in  Brandon  by  the  rector, 
they  dreaded  to  go  out  at  night  for  fear  of  stumbling 
over  a  dead  body ;  when  he  fed  at  his  gate  three  hundred 
of  the  poor  creatures  every  day,  and  was  compelled  to 
sprinkle  the  stones  on  which  they  sat  with  chloride  of 
lime,  for  fear  of  infection  from  the  famine  fever  which 
was  raging ;  —  at  that  very  time  the  smoke  of  the  dis- 


IRISH   DISTRESS.  153 

tilleries  was  darkening  the  air  and  intensifying  the 
horror  of  the  famine. 

A  nobleman  has  made  some  sensible  suggestions 
that  universal  abstinence  from  whisky  is  a  remedy  for 
the  Irish  distress.  Lord  Longford  says,  "  If  all 
classes  or  individuals,  without  waiting  for  others, 
would  spend  on  relieving  the  wants  of  their  poorer 
neighbors,  to  their  own  credit,  what  they  now  spend 
on  whisky,  to  their  own  destruction,  it  would  be  less 
necessary  to  make  frantic  appeals  to  the  government, 
to  the  landlords,  or  to  private  charity.  Temperance 
is  its  own  government,  its  own  landlords,  its  own 
Board  of  Works." 

The  "Irish  Ecclesiastical  Gazette"  says:  "Every 
one  who  lives  in  Ireland  knows  pretty  well  that  the 
causes  of  its  chronic  distress  really  are  (1)  over- 
population, (2)  overdrinking.  In  every  town  from 
which  the  cry  of  distress  comes  the  public  houses  and 
their  owners  prosper."  The  present  trouble  arises,  as 
we  all  know,  from  the  failure  of  the  crops  for  the  past 
five  years;  yet  the  drinking  habits  of  so  many  in- 
tensifies the  evil.  But  that  should  not  hinder  our 
charities.  I  would  feed  a  hungry  man  or  woman,, 
even  though  I  knew  their  poverty  was  directly  caused 
by  drink.  I  only  speak  of  the  drink  as  one  of  the 
causes,  and  as  an  aggravation  of  the  suffering  we 
deplore  and  are  ready  to  relieve.  The  "  Gazette " 
concludes  a  long  article  with  these  words :  "  Those 
who  discourage  emigration,  temperance,  and  honest 
industry,  and  foster  in  the  Irish  people  the  insane 
earth-hunger,  the  waste,  the  improvidence,  the  love 
of  political  excitement,  rather  than  patient,  plodding 
industry,  —  the  sin,  the  misery,  the  nation's  degrada- 
tion, lie  at  their  doors.  They  are  the  cause  of  the 


154  THE    BURTON   BKEWEKIES. 

Irish  distress."  I  merely  quote  these  words  for  what 
they  are  worth. 

I  have  before  me  an  appeal  to  the  Irish  people, 
dated  "Cork,  Feb.  19,  1880,"  entitled,  "Irish  Dis- 
tress, Irish  Drinking."  After  alluding  to  the  dark 
cloud  of  poverty  hanging  over  so  many  homes,  the 
unfavorable  harvest,  the  great  loss  in  the  entire  failure 
of  so  much  of  the  expected  crop,  it  states  that  "  drink 
is  pauperizing  the  people  to  a  far  greater  extent  than 
the  failure  of  the  crops,"  and  then  asks  the  question, 
"  Why  talk  of  poverty,  when  £5,000  every  week  are 
spent  in  Cork  alone  in  drink?  It's  all  nonsense." 
These  are  not  my  words,  but  the  words  of  a  com- 
mittee in  Cork  who  have  issued  this  appeal.  In  Eng- 
land there  is  great  distress,  but  we  do  not  hear  so 
much  of  it:  whether  the  English  have  greater  powers 
of  endurance,  I  know  not.  But  spite  of  distress,  the 
business  of  brewing  and  manufacturing  strong  drink 
is  active  and  lucrative. 

Burton-on-Trent  is  almost  wholly  given  up  to  the 
manufacture  of  beer.  The  place  is  nothing  more 
than  a  huge  brewery,  or  nest  of  breweries.  Beside 
the  lesser  ones,  here  are  the  beer-factories  of  Alsopp, 
Ind  &  Coope,  "Worthington,  Nunnely,  Robinson,  rep- 
resenting millions  of  barrels  of  beer.  Then  there  is 
Bass — his  extensive  beer-mills  covering  a  hundred 
acres  of  land,  and  using  two  or  three  hundred  quar- 
ters of  malt  every  day,  requiring  the  barley  grown  on 
sixty  thousand  acres  of  good  English  land,  besides 
the  hops  grown  on  two  thousand  acres  —  yearly  rolls 
into  the  groggeries  of  London  and  other  great  towns 
in  England  something  like  a  million  barrels  of  beer. 
He  owns  five  miles  of  private  railway  in  Burton,  and 
pays  £2,000  every  week  in  wages.  He  is  a  member 


COST   OF   DRINK.  155 

of  Parliament,  and  the  profits  of  the  firm  in  1878 
were  £450,000. 

In  1878,  the  people  spent  £160,000,000  for  drink, 
half  of  which  came  out  of  the  pockets  of  the  poor. 
In  one  city,  the  amount  sold  across  the  counters  of 
the  public  houses  was  £20,000  per  week;  while  at 
that  very  time  £10,000  were  raised  to  care  for  the 
poverty-stricken.  Paupers  who  received  out-door 
relief  of  half  a  crown  per  week,  in  several  instances 
have  been  known  to  spend  it  all  in  one  evening,  and 
live  by  begging  till  the  next  day  for  their  relief  came 
round. 

I  quote  from  a  London  paper: 

"  Of  all  the  sickening  announcements  we  ever  read,  the  announce- 
ment that  Mr.  Bass,  M.P.,  will  find  employment  for  men  who  have  lost 
their  work  through  bad  trade  is  the  most  revolting.  Mr.  Bass  is  the 
most  noted  brewer,  and  that  fact  explains  our  revulsion.  Trade  is  bad, 
but  drink  must  be  made ;  commerce  is  depressed,  but  beer  is  still  de- 
manded ;  profits  have  disappeared,  but  fuddling  is  well  to  the  front ! 
This  is  the  horrible  revelation  which  is  made  by  Mi*.  Bass.  It  discour- 
ages us.  It  shows  that,  so  far  as  our  social  economy  is  concerned,  the 
last  enemy  that  shall  be  destroyed  is  drink.  The  festive  Chancellor  of 
the  Exchequer  has  been  dining  with  the  licensed  victuallers  at  Exeter, 
and  talking  vinous  nonsense  to  the  beery  horde.  lie  has  abused  their 
traffic  and  patronized  it  in  the  same  breath.  He  has  told  the  victuallers 
how  much  better  they  are  than  their  trade,  and  then  that  their  trade  must 
be  watched  and  chained,  and  have  a  cordon  of  restrictions  around  its 
whole  scope.  Instead  of  damning  it  with  the  ardor  of  a  patriot,  he  pets 
it  and  humors  it  like  a  receiver  of  taxes.  He  talks  against  revolutionary 
measures,  and  warns  the  country  inferentially  against  the  Permissive 
Bill,  forgetting  that  a  revolution  is  better  than  destruction,  and  that  to 
be  without  drink  is  better  than  to  be  without  character.  The  Licensed 
Victuallers'  Benevolent  Association  !  What  cruel  irony  !  What  pitiless 
and  bitter  mockery  to  many  hearts  1 " 


CHAPTEK  XI. 


LIFE     AMONG     THE     LOWLY.  —  HOMELESS     HOMES.  — 
DARKNESS   AND   LIGHT. 

Homes  of  the  London  Poor  —  Cellar  Dwellings  —  Description  of  a 
Court  in  Gray's-Inn  Lane  —  King  Cholera  —  Horrible  Filth  — 
"  Work  in  the  Five  Dials  "  —  Dark  Pictures  of  Life  —  Tour  of  In- 
spection with  Hon.  Maude  Stanley  —  Visiting  Low  Localities  —  My 
Audience  —  A  Motley  Crowd  —  Coffee-Palace  opened  by  Dean  Stan- 
ley—The Bright  Side  — The  Honest  Girl  in  the  Thieves'  Court  — 
The  Newspaper- Vender  and  the  Pocket-Book — "A  Real  Case"  — 
Artful  Dodges  —  The  Workman's  Independence  —  "  Principled  agin 
taking  Money  "  —  Trust  and  Patience  of  the  Poor  —  Life  among  the 
Lowly  —  The  Crippled  Saint  —  Blue  Skies  reflected  from  Muddy 
Pools  —  The  Story  of  Thomas  Wright  —  A  Devoted  Son  —  Exam- 
ples of  Nobility  in  Humble  Life  —  Demands  for  Human  Sympathy. 


E  are  often  told  that  the  excuse  for 
drinking  among  the  poor  is  their 
wretched  homes,  the  want  of  air 
and  ventilation.,  I  grant  it  is  almost 
an  impossibility  to  give  more  than 
a  faint  idea  of  the  homes  of  the 
*  London  poor.  Hundreds  of  people 
live  under  the  surface  of  tke  streets, 
in  rooms  to  which  apertures  not  nine 
inches  above  the  footpath,  and  not  more  than  six  or 
seven  inches  from  the  front  of  the  building,  afford  the 
only  means  of  light  and  ventilation.  In  addition  to 
the  want  of  light  and  air,  these  places  are  in  most 
instances  intolerably  damp,  and  the  back  kitchen  is 

156 


TENANT-HOUSES.  157 

generally  used  by  the  numerous  tenants  of  the  house 
for  washing.  In  eight  cases  out  of  ten,  the  badly- 
formed  drains  allow  gases  to  escape  and  quietly  poison 
the  inmates. 

Some  time  ago,  a  court  in  Gray's  Inn  Lane  was 
cleaned  up  and  made  meet  for  human  habitation  by 
Lord  Shaftesbury's  excellent  society  for  improving 
the  condition  of  the  working  classes.  Take  the  fol- 
lowing literal  description  of  what  it  was  before  it  was 
reformed.  The  shutters  and  doors  were  broken ; 
from  most  of  the  windows  projected  a  well-known 
drying  apparatus  for  the  day's  wash;  the  pavement 
was  irregular,  retaining  decomposing  matter  to  con- 
taminate the  air;  while  the  basement  story  of  all  the 
houses  was  filled  with  fetid  refuse,  of  which  it  had 
been  the  receptacle  for  years.  In  some  of  the  houses 
it  seemed  scarcely  possible  that  human  beings  could 
live:  the  floors  were  in  holes,  the  stairs  broken  down, 
the  plastering  had  fallen;  nevertheless  they  were 
densely  populated,  and  as  much  rent  paid  for  the 
rooms  as  ought  to  have  obtained  for  the  tenants' 
decent  accommodations.  In  one,  the  roof  had  fallen 
in;  it  was  driven  in  by  a  tipsy  woman  one  night,  who 
had  sought  to  escape  over  the  tiles  from  her  husband. 
The  foul  effluvia  in  this  court  actually  rendered  it  im- 
possible for  the  workmen  to  proceed  for  some  time 
after  the  surface  had  been  broken  up,  and  many  of 
them  were  taken  ill.  It  was  in  this  court,  which  still 
bears  his  name,  that  Tyndal,  "  the  true  servant  and 
martyr  of  God,"  as  Fox  called  him,  translated  the 
Bible;  there,  where  Stowe  wrote: 

"  And  men  and  maids  went  Maying  in  the  glad  spring  time." 

In  the  London  hospitals,  from  ten  hundred  to  eleven 


158  WORK   IN   FIVE   DIALS. 

hundred  cubic  feet  of  space  are  allowed  to  each  person. 
In  some  of  the  houses  of  the  poor,  the  cubic  space 
afforded  is  less  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  per  head. 
In  the  east  of  London,  houses  are  several  feet  below 
the  level  of  the  Thames.  Even  the  rich  and  refined 
pay  a  terrible  penalty  for  the  neglect  of  proper  sani- 
tary regulations.  They  speak  correctly  who  make 
King  Cholera  sing: 

"  What  is  my  court?    These  cellars  piled 

With  filth  of  many  a  year ; 
These  rooms  with  rotting  damps  defiled, 
These  alleys  where  the  sun  ne'er  smiled, 

Darkling  and  drear. 
These  streets  along  the  river's  bank, 

Below  the  rise  of  tide ; 
These  hovels  set  in  stifling  rank, 
Sapped  by  the  earth,  damp,  green,  and  dank ; 

These  cesspools  wide ; 
These  yards  where  heaps  of  dust  and  bone 

Breathe  poison  all  around; 
These  styes  where  swinish  tenants  grown 
Half  human  with  their  masters,  own 

A  common  ground." 

The  Hon.  Maude  Stanley  published  a  book  entitled 
"  Work  in  the  Five  Dials,"  in  which  she  says : 

"  Such  is  the  scarcity  of  rooms,  that  once  the  workingman  has  got 
one,  he  gladly  keeps  it ;  and  I  have  known  women  to  be  months  and 
sometimes  years  trying  to  get  into  better  quarters.  In  a  house  I  knew 
well,  for  years  the  drinking  water  was  drawn  from  an  old  beer-barrel 
without  a  lid,  which  stood  between  an  unglazed  window  and  an  open 
door  in  the  basement,  and  under  a  butcher's  shop.  Through  the  window, 
which  was  on  a  level  with  the  street,  every  breath  of  wind  would  blow 
in  the  refuse,  the  germs  of  animal  disease  and  animal  life,  so  that  in 
summer  the  water  was  alive  with  animalculse  visible  to  the  naked  eye. 
Can  we  wonder  that  the  father  should  go  to  the  public-house,  preferring 
beer  there  to  foul  water  at  home. 

"  In  another  case,  the  death  of  a  most  excellent  woman  was  caused 
by  the  condition  of  the*  water  and  the  drains.  Her  husband  had  been  in 
a  wholesale  business  in  the  city,  and  she  had  lived  in  a  good  house  of  her 
own.  Her  husband  lost  everything  by  failure  in  the  city,  and  died.  Her 


PRIVATIONS   OF    THE   POOR.  159 

sons  were  taken  care  of  by  friends,  and  her  daughter  served  in  a  baker's 
shop.  The  mother  had  taken  a  poor,  little  place,  trying  to  earn  a  scanty 
living  by  selling  a  few  groceries.  Last  summer  she  felt  languid  and  ill 
from  the  bad  odor  outside  the  house,  which  came  in  through  the  open 
door.  In  vain  she  applied  to  the  landlord.  Nothing  was  done.  At  last 
she  wrote  to  the  Sanitary  Inspector.  The  tank,  which  was  under  an  oil 
and  tallow  chandler's  shop,  was  emptied.  At  the  bottom  was  found  two 
inches  of  mud,  the  decomposing  bodies  of  fourteen  rats,  a  bar  of  soap, 
candles,  and  many  dead  beetles ;  and  from  this  tank  the  poor  woman  had 
to  get  all  the  water  she  used.  Soon  the  poor  woman  was  taken  to  the 
hospital,  where  she  died.  Might  not  such  hardships  make  them  more 
drunken  and  immoral?  " 

I  am  well  aware  that  to  the  poor  denizens  of  these 
miserable  tenements,  the  public-house,  warm,  well- 
lighted,  and  cosy,  offers  a  strong  temptation;  and  I 
have  the  deepest  sympathy  with  these  poor  unfortu- 
nates, whether  brought  to  such  straits  by  their  own 
act  or  their  parents'  neglect.  Still  the  fact  stares  us 
in  the  face,  that  you  may  search  through  London  in 
its  worst  localities,  street  after  street,  court  after 
court,  alley  after  alley,  and  you  will  find  but  an  almost 
infinitesimal  portion  of  the  inhabitants  of  these  stifling 
dens  are  total  abstainers  from  drink.  Almost  the  first 
idea  that  takes  hold  of  a  man  or  woman  when  deter- 
mined to  be  free  from  the  drink,  is  to  get  out  of  the 
slums ;  the  tendency  at  once  in  most  cases  is  to  clean- 
liness, and  the  struggle  commences  to  get  clear  of 
their  surroundings.  I  have  seen,  and  so  have  all  who 
have  visited  these  localities,  the  poor  attempts  at  com- 
fort and  personal  cleanliness,  with  some  little  attempts 
at  ornament,  perhaps  a  poor  flower  in  the  window,  or 
a  cheap  picture  on  the  wall.  I  have  spent  many  hours 
in  company  with  city  missionaries  in  visiting  low 
localities. 

The  Hon.  Maude  Stanley  sent  me  her  book  called 
"  Work  in  the  Five  Dials,"  which  led  to  an  interview 


160  A  MOTLEY  ASSEMBLAGE. 

with  her,  and  under  her  guidance  I  made  a  tour  of 
observation  in  Princes  Row,  Grafton  Street,  Porter 
Street,  and  several  alleys  and  courts  in  the  vicinity  of 
Five  and  Seven  t)ials.  She  has  done,  and  is  doing,  a 
noble  work  in  efforts  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of 
the  people.  I  spoke  to  an  audience  of  four  hundred, 
gathered  together  from  the  different  streets  in  the 
neighborhood;  and  after  the  address,  a  temperance 
society  was  formed.  It  was  a  motley  crowd,  an  au- 
dience of  great  contrasts :  there  was  the  Right  Honor- 
able and  the  costermonger,  the  Countess  and  the 
unfortunate,  the  nobleman  and  the  beggar,  the  re- 
fined and  the  degraded,  the  gentleman  and  the  thief, 
the  rich  and  the  poor  meeting  together,  and  the  Lord 
the  maker  of  them  all. 

The  temperance  society  is  flourishing,  and  a  few 
weeks  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  Miss  Stanley  giving 
very  gratifying  accounts  of  the  success,  and  the  open- 
ing of  a  coffee-palace,  called  the  Stanley  Arms,  by 
Dean  Stanley  and  other  gentlemen  interested  in  the 
work.  Wherever  this  work  has  been  carried  on,  an 
evident  improvement  has  been  manifest  in  the  habits 
of  these  people;  many  have  become  Christians,  and 
the  drink  maniacs  have  been  found  clothed  and  in 
their  right  mind,  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  Not- 
withstanding the  fact  admitted  by  all  total  abstainers 
or  otherwise  that  drunkenness  is  the  chief  cause  of 
the  misery  of  the  poor,  there  are  many  —  too  many, 
for  the  credit  of  the  Christian  church  —  of  God's  own 
saints  hiding  their  sufferings  and  their  privation,  and 
bearing  and  enduring  enough  to  appall  the  stoutest 
heart. 

Why  should  we  be  ever  hearing  of  one  side?  and 
that  the  worst  of  the  poor  ones  who  perforce  are  com- 


THE   BRIGHTER   SIDE.  161 

pelled  to  dwell  in  the  horrible  surroundings  of  some 
of  the  slums,  just  take  the  following  well- authenti- 
cated fact. 

One  day,  a  little  girl,  living  with  her  father  in  a 
court  of  ill-repute,  picked  up  a  pocketbook  containing 
bank-notes  of  the  value  of  forty-five  pounds.  The 
other  contents  of  the  packet  included  the  address- 
card  of  the  owner;  and  consequently  a  day  or  two 
after,  a  very  poor-looking  old  man  called  at  the  gen- 
tleman's office,  left  his  address,  and  requested  Mr. 
to  pay  him  a  visit,  if  he  had  lost  anything. 

On  receipt  of  this  welcome  news,  the  owner  of  the 
property  hastened  to  the  court  designated  —  a  place 
which  was  seemingly  a  rendezvous  of  thieves  and 
loose  women.  The  intruder  found  himself  interro- 
gated by  an  apparent  descendant  of  "  Bill  Sikes,"  who 
in  peremptory  tones  desired  to  know  his  business; 
but  mentioning  the  name  of  the  man  wanted,  he  soon 
appeared  on  the  scene,  and  the  two  made  their  way 
into  one  of  the  dens  of  an  upper  story,  where  a  brief, 
whispered  conversation  ensued. 

"  Are  you  the  gentleman  I  called  on  this  morning?" 

"Yes." 

"  Have  you  lost  anything?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  have  lost  my  pocketbook." 

"What  was  in  it?" 

"  Forty-five  pounds." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  the  man  went  on.  "  "Well, 
I've  got  it  up-stairs,  under  my  bed.  You  go  and  walk 
up  Holborn,  and  I'll  follow  you.  Don't  say  nothing 
about  it  to  nobody;  they're  all  thieves.  Be  off  as 
quick  as  you  can,  and  don't  look  as  if  you  thought  I 
should  follow  you,  but  walk  right  away." 

Obeying  these  injunctions  to  the  letter,  the  gentle- 


162  HONESTY   IN   THE    SLUMS. 

man  was  soon  overtaken  by  the  old  man,  who  handed 
him  his  property  from  a  bundle  of  rags.  "  There, 
there  it  is,"  he  said.  "  My  little  girl  found  it,  and 
brought  it  to  me;  and  as  I  found  your  card  in  it,  I 
came  straight  off  to  you  about  it.  You'll  find  the 
money  all  right,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  things  just  as 
she  picked  it  up.  But  don't  say  nothing  about  it; 
'cos  if  them  fellows  knowed  I'd  done  this,  they'd  make 
the  place  too  'ot  to  'old  me.  They  are  all  thieves,  and 
I  was  afraid  that  they  might  smell  a  rat  if  you  stopped 
there." 

When  he  received  five  pounds'  reward,  and  five 
shillings  for  his  daughter,  the  old  man  was,  if  possi- 
ble, as  much  dazzled  at  the  liberality  of  "  Yerax,"  as 
the  latter  was  surprised  at  so  uncommon  an  example 
of  honesty.  As  regards  the  finder  of  the  book,  no 
words  can  express  her  consternation  at  the  sudden 
turning  up  of  so  grand  a  personage  as  the  city  mer- 
chant. She  sobbed  as  though  her  heart  would  break, 
supposing  she  was  about  to  be  imprisoned  for  the 
crime  of  finding  so  much  treasure.  The  father  even 
offered  an  explanation  byway  of  apology:  "She  so 
often  hears  of  her  companions  being  quodded,  that 
she  thought  it  had  come  to  her  turn."  This  is  a 
highly  gratifying,  but  by  no  means  solitary  example 
of  heroic  honesty  among  the  very  poor. 

On  another  occasion,  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds 
were  picked  up  by  a  newspaper  seller,  and  were  faith- 
fully restored  to  the  owner. 

Passing  down  Bishopsgate  Street,  one  Saturday 
evening,  I  saw  a  group  collected  around  a  poor 
woman,  who  lay  on  a  door-step,  apparently  very  ill. 
I  asked  wliat  the  matter  was,  as  the  poor  creature 
was  groaning.  How  sad  that  drunkenness  being  so 


TRUE   INDEPENDENCE.  163 

common,  my  first  thought  should  be,  "  She's  drunk." 
As  no  one  answered  my  question,  I  stooped  over  her 
to  ascertain,  but  I  detected  no  smell  of  drink;  and 
after  paying  for  a  cab  to  convey  her  home,  I  turned 
to  go  away,  when  a  man  apparently  of  the  poorest 
said,  "That's  a  real  case,  sir;  some  is  sham.  Ah,  I 
know  a  good  deal  about  it,  sir."  I  said,  "  What  do 
you  mean  by  sham?"  "Yell,  sir,  I  s'pose  you  know 
there's  a  wariety  of  dodges  to  get  a  little.  Veil,  poor 
things,  I  don't  blame  'em ;  they  'as  'ard  lines  —  vot 
with  'ard  times  and  the  drink,  and  von  thing  and 
another,  ve  all  of  us  'as  'ard  times.  Now,  sir,  you'd 
'ardly  think  that  I  'aven't  put  a  drop  of  liquor  to  my 
lips  for  twelve  years,  and  yet  I'm  werry  often  'ungry; 
it's  so  'ard  to  get  work."  I  said,  "I'll  give  you  a 
couple  of  shillings  to  help  you  on."  He  said,  "No, 
sir,  I  thank  you,  sir;  I  don't  need  it  to-night.  I  had 
a  job  of  work  this  week,  and  I'm  going  to  get  my 
money,  eight  shillings,  and  I  expect  another  job  next 
Thursday,  and  I'll  get  on  werry  well  till  then.  I 
shouldn't  find  it  so  'ard,  but  I'm  keeping  my  old 
mother." 

At  this  I  urged  him  to  take  the  money,  or  more  if 
he  needed.  He  said,  "Yell,  sir,  you  may  think  it 
hodd,  but  I  have  a  principle  never  to  take  money 
unless  I'm  hawful  'ard  hup,  and  can't  get  along  no- 
vays  without  it.  Now,  sir,  you  give  that  money  to 
somebody  vat's  vorse  off  than  me.  You'll  find  'em. 
I  can  get  along,  and  I'm  principled  agin  taking 
money  if  I  can  get  along  without.  I  don't  think  it's 
right."  And  though  I  pressed  the  money  on  him,  he 
refused,  and  said  with  a  smile,  as  I  left  him,  "  Thank 
ye  all  the  same,  sir;  it  isn't  a  vim,  it's  principle. 
Good  night."  I  said,  "  You'll  shake  hands  with  me?" 


164  THANKFUL  —  FOR  WHAT  ? 

and  I  gave  him  a  hearty  grip  of  the  hand,  and  left 
him  a  gentleman  of  principle. 

A  gentleman  —  a  clergyman  —  said  to  me :  "  I  have 
visited  at  the  houses  of  the  rich,  and  stood  by  the 
bedside  of  the  wealthy.  But  never  have  I  been  so 
lifted  up  above  myself  and  stimulated  to  a  better 
life;  never  have  I  seen  such  grand  examples  of  pa- 
tience, trust,  and  endurance;  never  have  I  seen  such 
cheerful  submission  to  that  which,  when  witnessed, 
amazes  us  that  any  poor  human  being  can  exist  under 
its  severity,  than  by  the  side  of  the  bedridden,  the 
crippled,  and  the  suffering,  who  are  in  the  midst  of 
poverty,  not  knowing  what  would  befall  them  on  the 
morrow,  living  actually  by  faith,  yet  rejoicing  and 
thankful  in  the  midst  of  privation  and  suffering." 

Come  wTith  me;  turn  under  this  low  doorway; 
climb  these  narrow,  creaking  stairs;  knock  at  the 
door.  A  pleasant  voice  bids  you  enter.  You  see  a 
woman  sixty-four  years  of  age,  her  hands  folded  and 
contracted,  her  whole  body  crippled  and  curled  to- 
gether, as  cholera  cramped,  and  rheumatism  fixed  it 
twenty-eight  years  ago.  For  sixteen  years  she  has 
not  moved  from  her  bed,  nor  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow; and  she  has  been  in  constant  pain,  while  she 
cannot  move  a  limb.  Listen  —  she  is  thankful.  For 
what?  For  the  use  of  one  thumb;  with  a  two-pronged 
fork,  fastened  to  a  stick,  she  can  turn  over  the  leaves 
of  an  old-fashioned  Bible,  when  placed  within  her 
reach.  Hear  her:  "I'm  content  to  lie  here  as  long  as 
it  shall  please  Him,  and  to  go  when  He  shall  call 
me." 

Miss  Maude  Stanley,  in  her  book,  says : 

"  As  in  looking  into  a  small  pool  of  water  remaining  in  the  glitter  of 
the  dirtiest  court,  after  a  heavy  shower  of  rain,  we  may  see  reflected  the 


ROMANCE   OF   POVERTY.  165 

clear  blue  sky  and  the  fleecy  cloud,  so  may  we  see  amongst  the  poorest 
and  the  most  suffering,  the  reflection  of  Divine  love  and  of  Divine  en- 
durance. These  sights  may  be  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  some ;  if  so,  let 
them  cultivate  their  minds  by  literature  and  art,  and  they  will  lighten 
their  own  work  and  bring  brightness  to  the  homes  they  visit. 

"  And  will  my  readers  think  with  me  that  there  is  poetry  in  the  story 
of  Thomas  Wright?  They  would  find  him  in  a  low-roofed  room  of  a 
London  house ;  the  walls  are  covered  with  dirty  paper,  the  ceiling  seems 
never  to  have  been  whitewashed.  On  the  bed  has  lain  for  seven  years  a 
poor  woman  so  disfigured  that  none  will  look  on  her  willingly  for  the 
second  time.  And  why  is  she  here?  Because  she  has  an  old  husband 
and  a  strong  son,  who  love  her  tenderly.  Often  has  the  relieving  officer 
offered  to  take  her  into  the  Infirmary ;  but  no,  the  young  man,  who  is 
past  thirty,  says  he  will  never  tire  of  working  for  his  mother.  For  her 
sake  he  has  never  married.  He  and  his  father  sit  all  day  together  at 
their  bench,  sewing  and  stitching  away  at  the  boots  which  bring  them 
daily  food  and  the  few  comforts  they  can  get  for  the  sick  woman. 

"  For  her  sake,  the  son  cultivates  a  few  plants  outside  the  window,  so 
that  the  breeze  may  be  scented  as  it  comes  to  her  lying  on  her  poor  bed. 
The  father  is  past  seventy,  so  that  lie  earns  but  little;  the  son  works 
early  and  late,  for  he  wants  all  he  can  get  to  keep  himself,  his  father  and 
his  mother.  His  rent  is  four  and  sixpence  a  week,  and  he  pays  a  neigh- 
bor to  come  in  every  day  to  make  his  mother's  bed.  The  bed  is  as  nice 
and  clean  as  it  is  possible  for  them  to  keep  it.  The  neighbors  tell  me 
that  Thomas  will  work  hard  till  ten,  and  then  he  will  go  out  and  walk 
up  and  down  the  street  smoking  the  pipe,  which  he  has  denied  himself 
before.  If  you  speak  to  him  of  his  mother,  he  says  simply  that  he  will 
work  and  work  for  her,  for  he  could  not  bear  to  think  of  her  being  in 
the  workhouse  away  from  him.  To  me  this  seems  a  long  enduring  de- 
votion that  few  sons  in  comfortable  houses  equal  or  surpass." 

I  give  you  one  other  description  from  her  book. 
She  says: 

"  Let  us  go  up  a  dark  and  winding  staircase,  and  there,  high  up,  over- 
looking the  roof,  you  will  see  a  tailor  sitting  all  day  at  his  window  cross- 
legged  on  his  bench.  He  is  always  stitching  at  his  work ;  and  often  you 
will  see  beside  him  the  little  child  asleep ;  it  has  crept  up  to  be  near  the 
father  it  loves  so  passionately.  He  is  a  Cumberland  man,  ajid  in  all  the 
weary  toil  of  his  London  life  he  will  often  turn  his  thoughts  to  those 
blue  bells  and  those  breezy  moors  which  he  has  left  forever.  In  another 
room,  smaller  and  more  crowded,  you  may  hear  of  the  little  boy  who 
gets  up  of  a  cold  winter's  morning  long  before  his  brothers  and  sisters 
are  awake  to  light  the  fire,  so  that  father  should  have  a  warm  cup  of  tea 
in  bed.  The  father  is  good  and  loving  to  his  children ;  he  works  at  home 
with  his  eldest  son  of  nineteen  at  bootmaking.  In  this  same  room  lives 


166  HEROES   EST   HUMBLE   LIFE. 

his  wife,  a  girl  of  fourteen,  and  three  small  boys.  The  room  is  small, 
the  walls  have  dirty  paper,  but  within  it  there  is  a  wealth  of  love,  spring- 
ing from  that  little  Christopher  to  his  ailing  father." 

Truly  there  are  heroes  in  humble  life.  Poverty  has 
its  heroes  not  a  few  —  its  victims  many.  Sometimes 
victim  and  hero  are  blended  in  one  poor,  sinning,  suf- 
fering, sacrificing,  lovable  soul.  Oh,  the  stint  that 
comes  from  the  want  of  a  penny !  waste  of  life  through 
want  of  food;  death  made  gall  and  bitterness  by  the 
thought  of  dear  ones  left  destitute !  And  yet  poverty 
sometimes  evolves  the  noblest  heroism,  touching 
bruised  hearts  with  tenderest  emotions,  quickening 
poor  souls  with  hope,  evoking  self-devotion,  and  ex- 
ercising the  magnanimity  that  doeth  all  it  can,  and 
giveth  all  it  hath.  Oh,  ye  whom  God  has  enriched 
with  many  blessings,  remember  it  is  His  will  that  pure 
hearts  shall  sympathize  with  His  lowly,  though  erring 
ones;  and  that  ready  hands  be  stretched  forth  to 
succor  and  to  save. 


CHAPTEE   XH. 

OPPOSITION     TO     PROGRESS.  —  THE     WORLD'S     BENE- 
FACTORS. 


Great  Discoverers  and  Inventors  —  The  Opposition  they  have  met — 
Satire  upon  Dr.  Jenner  —  An  Amusing  Picture  —  Employing  the 
Assistance  of  the  Devil  —  The  "  Swing  Swang  "  —  Practice  often 
against  Theories  —  "Horses  going  to  the  Dogs"  —  Liverpool  & 
Manchester  Railway  —  Railway  Engines  and  Sheep's  Wool  —  Alarm- 
ing Predictions  —  The  Old  Coachman  —  Heroism  for  the  Truth's 
Sake  —  Puritanic  Strictness  —  The  New-England  Sabbath  —  "Strain- 
t  ing  at  a  Gnat "  —  Drunk  on  the  Sabbath  —  Whistling  for  a  Dog  — 
Wife-thrashing  and  Sabbath-breaking  —  True  Liberty  and  Sunday 
Trains — Testimonies  to  the  Christian  Sabbath:  Macaulay,  Black- 
stone,  Adam  Smith,  Webster,  Theodore  Parker,  &c. — Holiday  not 
Holy  Day  —  Jurists  and  the  Sabbath  —  Physicians  and  the  Sabbath 
—  Statesmen  and  the  Sabbath — The  Old  Book  —  Liberty  under  Law. 

•  UBLIC  opinion  does  not  always  deter- 
mine what  is  right.  Let  any  man  ven- 
ture to  act  an  unusual  part,  and  the 
world,  or  public  opinion,  will  frown  on 
his  course.  The  history  of  discoveries 
and  inventions  will  illustrate  the  fact. 
Because  Roger  Bacon  understood  "  per- 
spective," he  was  charged  with  being  pos- 
sessed of  a  devil,  and  was  imprisoned  for 
ten  years.  Galileo,  for  asserting  that  the  earth  moves, 
was  condemned  to  imprisonment  and  to  abjure  his 
doctrines  on  his  knees.  Report  has  it  that  as  he  rose 
from  his  knees  he  said,  "  It  does  move,  notwithstand- 
ing." Sir  Isaac  Newton's  discoveries  were  ignored 
11  167 


168  COW-POX   TRAGEDY. 

by  his  own  university  more  than  thirty  years  after 
they  were  published.  Columbus  discovered  the  New 
World,  and  met  with  opposition  and  persecution.  Dr. 
Harvey  discovered  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  and 
was  attacked  on  all  sides  with  every  weapon  that 
ignorance,  prejudice,  spleen  and  envy  could  frame 
against  him. 

The  discoverer  of  vaccination,  Dr.  Jenner,  was 
opposed  by  the  medical  profession  and  the  public. 
I  have  a  curious  caricature  by  Cruikshank,  dated 
1812,  entitled  "  The  Cow-Pox  Tragedy,  Scene  the 
Last,"  and  dedicated  to  the  "Associated  Jennerian 
Cow-poxers  of  Gloster."  It  is  described  as  a  satire 
on  Dr.  Jenner  and  his  discovery,  and  on  the  antici- 
pated downfall  of  the  Royal  Jennerian  College.  A 
procession  at  the  bottom  of  the  picture  is  attending 
the  funeral  of  Vaccination,  aged  twelve  years.  Above 
is  a  monument,  inscribed  "  To  the  Memory  of  Vac- 
cina,  who  died  April  the  first."  The  mourners  carry 
placards :  "  National  Vaccine  Institution  for  genuine 

Cow-Pox,  by  Act  of  Parliament;  L ,  Undertaker," 

"Surrey  Dispensary,  &c."  In  the  centre  is  a  sun 
sending  forth  rays  of  light,  inscribed  "  Common 
Sense,"  "  Candid  Investigation,"  "  Reason,"  "  Relig- 
ion," "  Truth."  On  a  curtain  near  the  top  of  the 
picture  is  written,  "  'Tis  Conscience  that  makes  Cow- 
herds of  us  all."  On  one  side  is  a  cornucopia  pour- 
ing out  skulls  and  crossbones,  with  labels,  "  Scald 
Heads,"  "  Jennerian  Scrofula,"  "  Cow  Itch,"  "  Cow- 
pox  Mange,"  "  Tumid  Glands,"  "Vaccine  Eruptions," 
"  Blindness."  On  the  other  side  is  a  cornucopia 
pouring  forth  roses,  with  the  names  of  the  pamphlets 
issued  in  favor  of  Jenner,  with  ridiculous  comments. 

I  might  enumerate  other  discoverers.     John  Faust, 


"THE  RTJMMEST  GO."  169 

the  inventor  of  printing,  was  charged  with  employing 
the  assistance  of  the  devil  in  the  manufacture  of 
books.  The  inventors  of  the  ribbon-loom,  the  stock- 
ing-loom, the  spinning-jenny,  were  persecuted.  The 
pendulum  was  ridiculed  by  the  name  of  the  "  swing- 
swang."  The  inventor  of  the  steam-engine  was 
called  a  madman.  The  introduction  of  gas  was  ridi- 
culed by  the  literary  and  learned,  including  such  men 
even  as  Sir  Walter  Scott.  Fulton  was  met  by  in- 
credulous smiles,  rude  jokes,  and  contemptuous  ridi- 
cule. 

In  every  department  of  science  and  art  inventors 
and  discoverers  have  been  opposed,  even  to  our  own 
day.  Dr.  Lardner  proved  by  mathematical  demon- 
stration that  a  steamer  could  not  cross  the  Atlantic, 
at  the  very  time  that  the  "  Great  Western  "  did  cross 
it.  The  early  history  of  railroads  is  a  history  of 
opposition,  at  which  we  smile  to-day.  The  race  of 
horses  was  to  be  extinguished.  In  my  collection  of 
caricatures  I  found  one  entitled  "  The  Horses  going 
to  the  Dogs."  A  steam-coach,  called  the  "  Wonder," 
is  passing  on  the  road,  crowded  within  and  without 
with  passengers,  some  of  whom  are  taking  a  sight 
at  a  group  of  horses  which  are  standing  in  an  in- 
closure,  looking  startled  at  the  phenomenon.  One 
blind  horse  says,  "A  coach  without  horses!  Non- 
sense !  Come,  come,  Master  Dobbin,  you  are  a  trotter, 
but  you  must  not  think  to  humbug  me  because  I  am 
blind."  Another  exclaims,  "  Well,  dash  my  wig !  if 
that  is  not  the  rummest  go  I  ever  saw !  "  Two  dogs 
are  sitting  in  the  foreground;  one  asks  the  question, 
"  I  say,  Wagtail,  what  do  you  think  of  this  new  in- 
vention?" The  other  dog  replies,  "Why,  I  think  we 
shall  have  meat  enough  soon."  The  cows  would 


1TO  HISSING,   FIERY   SERPENT. 

cease  to  give  milk  all  along  the  line,  vegetables  would 
cease  to  grow,  the  cultivation  of  corn  would  be  pre- 
vented, and  all  the  springs  would  be  dried  up  by  the 
extensive  excavations. 

The  Liverpool  and  Manchester  Railway  was  opened 
on  the  15th  of  September,  1830.  Never  was  any 
scheme  assailed  with  stronger  invective  or  ridicule 
than  the  railway  scheme  in  England.  In  1825  the 
"  Quarterly  Review  "  says,  "  "We  should  as  soon  ex- 
pect people  to  suffer  themselves  to  be  fired  off  upon 
one  of  the  Congreve  ricochet  rockets,  as  to  trust 
themselves  to  the  mercy  of  a  machine  going  eighteen 
or  twenty  miles  an  hour."  A  member  of  Parliament 
declared  his  opinion  "  that  a  railway  could  not  com- 
pete with  a  canal,  for  even  with  the  best  locomotive 
engine  the  average  rate  would  be  but  three  and  a  half 
miles  an  hour." 

Among  the  reasons  for  preventing  the  London  and 
Northwestern  Railway  coming  to  Northampton,  it 
was  urged  that  the  smoke  of  the  trains  would  seri- 
ously discolor  the  wool  on  the  sheep,  and  the  passing 
so  repeatedly  through  their  meadows  of  such  a  rum- 
bling, hissing,  fiery  serpent  would  so  alarm,  fret,  and 
distract  their  cattle  that  they  could  not  fat  them; 
therefore  the  road  was  turned  away  from  Northampton. 

The  innkeepers,  coach-proprietors,  hostlers,  and 
coachmen  made  common  cause  against  the  rail. 
"Ah,"  said  one  of  the  last  stage-coachmen,  in  giving 
a  history  of  his  opposition  and  final  surrender,  "ah, 
sir,  I  did  my  hutmost  to  oppose  'um.  I  vas  von  of 
the  last  to  give  in.  I  kep'  a-losing  day  arter  day.  I 
drove  a  coach  the  last  day  vith  an  old  voman  and  a 
carpet-bag  hinside  and  some  hempty  trunks  on  the 
top.  I  was  determined  to  'ave  some  passengers,  so^I 


"VE   DO   RUN"   BEHIND."  171 

took  my  vife  and  children,  'cos  nobody  else  vouldn't 
go.  Ye  vas  game  to  the  last,  but  ve  guv  in.  The 
landlord  of  this  'ere  'ouse  vas  an  austerious  man.  He 
use'  to  hobserve  that  he  honly  vished  a  railway  com- 
mittee vould  dine  hat  'is  'ouse,  —  he'd  pizen  'em  all ; 
and  he  vould  too,  sir!  Lor,  sir,  see  vat  ve've  corned 
to,  all  along  of  the  rail !  Yy,  sir,  I've  been  werry 
popular,  I  have.  I've  been  drownded  in  'thank  yers' 
from  ladies  for  never  letting  nobody  step  through 
their  bandboxes.  Yy,  sir,  the  chambermaids  use'  to 
smile  hat  me,  the  dogs  vagged  their  blessed  tails  and 
barked  ven  I  come.  But  it's  all  hover  now,  sir;  and 
the  gemmen  that  kep'  this  'ere  'ouse  takes  tickets  at  a 
station,  poor  fellow!  and  the  chambermaids  makes 
scalding  hot  tea  behind  a  mahogany  counter  for  people 
as  'as  no  time  to  drink  it  in.  Ah,  veil,  veil,  sir,  'ow 
ve  do  run  behind  in  this  vorld,  surely ! " 

In  all  the  world's  history,  when  men  have  touched 
a  prejudice,  or  affected  an  interest,  or  interfered  with 
some  vested  rights,  or  struck  a  blow  at  some  old 
established  wrong,  they  have  borne  the  scorn,  con- 
tempt, ridicule,  persecution  and  opposition  of  public 
opinion,  all  the  way  to  the  victory.  How  often  a 
really  true  and  brave  man  has  been  hindered  in  a 
course  of  usefulness,  by  the  slavish  fear  of  incurring 
the  censure  of  the  world!  I  do  not  say  that  public 
opinion  is  never  right.  On  abstract  questions  it  is 
generally  right;  for  instance,  truth,  righteousness,  and 
justice  are  good,  but  in  the  application  of  these  prin- 
ciples, public  opinion  is  often  at  fault. 

The  great  error  with  many  of  us  is,  that  we  do  not 
try  our  conduct  by  the  standard  of  eternal  right,  but 
by  "What  will  others  say?"  ""What  will  others 
think?"  "How  far  will  public  opinion  sustain  me?" 


172  RIGHTEOUS    OVER-MUCH. 

The  world  will  never  be  the  better  for  us,  if  we  trim 
our  sails  to  the  breeze  of  public  opinion.  It  is  our 
duty  to  settle  the  matter —  "am  I  right?"  —  and  then 
resist,  as  a  rock  resists  the  dashing  wave.  Let  me 

"  Go  forth  among  men,  not  mailed  in  scorn, 
But  in  the  armor  of  a  pure  intent. 
Great  duties  are  before  me  and  great  aims ; 
And  whether  crowned  or  crownless,  when  I  fall, 
It  matters  not,  so  that  God's  work  is  done." 

Oh,  it  is  grand  to  see  a  man  confronting  the  crowd 
for  their  own  good,  —  seizing  a  truth,  standing  by  it, 
and,  if  need  be,  dying  for  it;  becoming  a  pioneer  of 
humanity  in  some  new  rough  path;  at  his  own  risk 
and  cost,  building  a  pathway  on  which  another  gen- 
eration shall  march  to  higher  degrees  of  wisdom, 
virtue,  and  freedom! 

I  know,  too,  it  is  becoming  the  fashion  to  rail  at  the 
Puritans,  and  ridicule  the  strictness  of  our  fathers,  in 
moral  and  religious  things,  —  a  very  easy  thing  to  do. 
It  always  has  been  easy  to  ridicule  any  effort  to  be 
better,  or  do  better;  probably  it  always  will  be.  The 
very  imperfections  of  our  earliest  efforts  in  any  direc- 
tion leave  many  an  open  place  for  assault  and  ridi- 
cule. There  have  been  very  spicy  things  said  and 
written  about  the  dolefulness  of  the  early  New  Eng- 
land Sabbath. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  in  this  age  we  are  terri- 
bly afraid  of  being  too  good,  of  obeying  God's  law 
too  strictly.  "  Being  righteous  over-much "  is  con- 
stantly quoted  against  those  who  plead  for  the  stricter 
observance  of  the  Sabbath,  and  protest  against  its 
violation.  Any  law  or  custom  that  interferes  with 
our  real,  or  supposed  comfort,  or  the  largest  personal 
liberty,  we  are  apt  to  resist  as  an  injustice.  I  admit 


TWO   SHILLINGS   ON   SUNDAY.  173 

there  is  such  a  thing  as  "  straining  at  a  gnat  and 
swallowing  a  camel."  A  lady  in  Edinburgh  was 
walking  in  the  street,  one  Sunday  morning,  with  her 
pet  dog,  when  the  animal  strayed  from  her.  Seeing 
a  man,  who  happened  to  be  very  drunk,  she  asked 
him  if  he  would  be  kind  enough  to  whistle  her  dog 
back  to  her.  "  Madam,  I'm  ashamed  of  ye,  to  ask  a 
decent  body  like  me  to  violate  the  holy  Sabbath  day 
by  whistling." 

A  gentleman  in  Scotland  hired  a  carriage  to  take 
him  to  church.  He  asked  the  driver  what  the  fare 
was.  "  Our  regular  fare  is  one  shilling,  but  we  charge 
two  shillings  Sunday  to  discourage  Sabbath-breaking." 

In  an  old  church  register  in  New  England  is  found 
recorded  the  fact  that  a  certain  man  thrashed  his  wife 
one  Sunday.  The  church  dealt  with  him  for  Sabbath- 
breaking  only,  probably  because  thrashing  his  wife 
was  either  a  work  of  necessity  or  mercy.  To  many 
it  is  very  inconvenient  to  have  such  intangible  things 
as  scruples  of  law  and  conscience  come  up  to  bar 
the  way  against  going  where  they  please,  when  they 
please,  and  in  what  fashion  they  please.  All  the  dis- 
tortions of  obedience  to  the  biblical  Sabbath  require- 
ments do  not  alter  one  hair's  line  the  beneficent  eflect 
of  obedience  to  them,  or  any  other  of  God's  laws.  We 
are  finding  out,  the  medical  faculty  are  finding  out, 
the  lunatic  asylums  are  showing,  the  statistics  are 
proving,  and  all  thoughtful  experience  is  testifying, — 
that  the  Sabbath,  and  the-  Bible  way  of  keeping  it, 
holds  in  its  hands  the  life,  health,  sanity,  wisdom,  pri- 
vate and  public  virtue,  well-considered  statesmanship 
—  everything  outside  of  what  is  called  religion  that 
civilization  values,  and  all  of  the  true  law  of  liberty 
in  religion  also. 


174  THE   CHRISTIAN   SABBATH. 

There  is  no  true  liberty  but  in  steadfast  obedience 
to  righteous  law.  That  brotherhood  of  locomotive 
engineers  that  met  some  years  since  in  St.  Louis,  had 
felt  their  way  along  the  path  of  experience,  when  they 
adopted  two  things:  One,  a  rule  expelling  an  engi- 
neer addicted  to  the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  and 
the  other  a  resolution  favoring  the  abolition  of  Sun- 
day trains. 

Is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  we  can  drop  a  cor- 
ner beam  out  of  our  building  in  family  or  state,  and 
not  expect  the  whole  structure  to  be  unsafe?  The 
very  rate  at  which  we  are  travelling,  in  oar  path  of 
advance,  should  make  us  look  well  to  every  bolt  and 
fastening.  Lord  Macaulay  said,  "  If  Sunday  had  not 
been  observed  as  a  day  of  rest,  during  the  last  three 
centuries,  we  should  have  been  at  this  moment  a 
poorer  and  less  civilized  people  than  we  are."  Black- 
stone  adds  his  testimony:  "A  corruption  of  morals 
usually  follows  a  profanation  of  the  Sabbath."  Says 
Adam  Smith,  "  The  Sabbath,  as  a  political  institution, 
is  of  inestimable  value,  independently  of  its  claim  to 
divine  authority."  Justice  McLean  declares,  "  Where 
there  is  110  Christian  Sabbath,  there  is  no  Christian 
morality;  and  without  this,  free  institutions  can  not 
long  be  sustained."  Daniel  Webster  said :  "  The 
longer  I  live,  the  more  highly  do  I  estimate  the  Chris- 
tian Sabbath,  and  the  more  grateful  do  I  feel  toward 
those  who  impress  its  importance  on  the  community." 
Theodore  Parker  (though  he  did  not  believe  in  the 
Sabbath  as  a, divine  institution,  yet  did  believe  in  the 
day  as  a  political  necessity)  said :  "  I  should  be  sorry 
to  see  the  Sunday  devoted  to  common  work;  sorry  to 
hear  the  clatter  of  a  mill,  or  the  rattle  of  the  wheels 
of  business  on  that  day.  I  look  with  pain  on  men 


STRONG  TESTIMONY.  175 

engaged  needlessly  in  work  on  that  day;  not  with 
the  pain  of  wounded  superstition,  but  a  deeper  re- 
gret." When  Mr.  Parker  was  travelling  on  the  con- 
tinent of  Europe,  he  expressed  the  decided  opinion 
that  the  New  England  method  of  keeping  Sunday 
was  far  better  than  the  European  method :  "  For  on 
the  continent  of  Europe  the  Sunday  is  apt  to  be  a 
mere  holiday,  while  in  ISTew  England  it  is  a  thoughtful 
holy-day."  (Vol.  iii.  89.) 

After  John  Quincy  Adams  had  been  President  of 
the  United  States,  he  presided  at  a  large  national 
convention  for  promoting  the  better  observance  of  the 
Sabbath.  He  signed  the  appeal  which  the  conven- 
tion made  to  the  country.  Our  greatest  judge,  The- 
ophilus  Parsons,  would  never  give  legal  advice  on 
the  Sabbath-day,  because  he  agreed  with  Sir  Matthew 
Hale  in  thinking  that  the  rest  of  one  day  in  seven 
is  a  duty  for  all  men,  keeping  the  mind  and  body 
healthy. 

The  celebrated  physician  Dr.  Farre  declared  that 
the  keeping  of  the  Sunday  is  necessary  for  the  public 
health;  and  our  own  physician,  Dr.  J.  C.  "Warren, 
fully  indorsed  the  testimony  of  Dr.  Farre.  TVm.  Wil- 
berforce  said,  "I  can  truly  declare  that,  to  me,  the 
Sabbath  has  been  invaluable."  "When  Sir  Samuel 
Romilly,  Solicitor-General  of  England  during  Fox's 
administration,  committed  suicide  (^sTov.  2,  1818) ,  Mr. 
Wilberforce  said,  "If  he  had  suffered  his  mind  to 
enjoy  such  occasional  remission,  it  is  highly  probable 
that  the  strings  of  life  would  never  have  snapped 
from  over  tension."  The  celebrated  Castlereagh,  who 
was  Foreign  Secretary  in  1812,  committed  suicide  in 
1822;  Wilberforce  said,  "Poor  fellow,  he  was  cer- 
tainly deranged,  —  the  effect,  probably,  of  continued 


176  THE   OLD  BOOK. 

wear  of  the  mind  and  the  non-observance  of  the  Sab- 
bath. It  is  curious  to  hear  the  newspapers  speaking 
of  incessant  application  to  business;  forgetting  that 
by  the  weekly  admission  of  a  day  of  rest,  which  our 
Maker  has  enjoined,  our  faculties  would  be  preserved 
from  the  effects  of  this  constant  strain." 

We  shall  find,  the  more  fairly  we  examine  it,  if  we 
really  desire  to  find,  the  way  to  give  liberty  and  rights 
to  all,  if  we  wish  to  rule  and  make  safe  all  dangerous 
classes,  insure  the  largest  culture,  the  happiness  with 
least  alloy,  the  safety  in. our  progress,  the  most  bril- 
liant and  steady  light  on  the  page  of  our  future  his- 
tory,— we  shall  find  the  easiest,  the  least  costly,  and 
the  surest  way  to  do  this  contained  in  the  leaves  of  an 
old  Book  that  all  the  power  of  human  research,  all 
the  pride  of  human  opinion,  or  all  the  subtlety  of 
mortal  reasoning,  can  never  put  out  of  the  world. 
God  be  thanked,  so  clear  it  is,  and  so  simple,  that 
a  wayfaring  man  or  a  fool  need  not  err  in  finding  his 
right  way  by  it.  The  Hebrew  boy  Samuel  found  it 
so,  thousands  of  years  ago,  even  though  examples  of 
moral  weakness  and  wickedness  poisoned  nearly  all 
the  atmosphere  about  him.  He  never  whined  about 
its  being  hard  to  obey  these  laws,  never  considered 
himself  abused  that  he  could  not  follow  a  multitude 
to  do  evil,  and  be  able  at  the  same  time  to  clutch  the 
reward  of  obedience.  He  grew  to  make  and  unmake 
kings  for  his  nation,  and  was  de  facto  king  in  the 
sense  of  ruling;  and  his  ruling  in  that  fashion  will 
live  when  Bismarcks  and  Beaconsfields  have  been 
obliterated  from  earthly  history. 

As  in  mathematics,  everything  possible  in  our  mount 
to  the  farthest  bound  of  the  universe,  and  by  which 
we  measure,  assign,  and  weigh  all  things,  is  wrapped 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN.  177 

in  a  few  simple  laws;  even  so  all  the  possibilities  of 
our  personal  future,  all  the  hopes  of  a  true  and  glori- 
ous national  future,  all  that  will  yet  glorify  human 
life,  find  their  only  certainty  in  the  steadfast  obedi- 
ence to  and  the  practice  of  the  few  laws  of  that  grand 
old  Book  to  whose  requirements  we  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  submit  in  one  fashion  or  another.  Benjamin 
Franklin  advised  Thomas  Paine  not  to  print  the  "Age 
of  Reason,"  "  for,"  said  he,  "  if  men  are  so  bad  with 
the  Bible,  what  would  they  be  without  it?  " 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

MANLINESS      AND      MORAL     PRINCIPLE.   —  INDUSTRY 
VERSUS    IDLENESS. 

False  Ideas  of  Manliness  —  Physical  Strength  no  Test  —  Lord  Bacon  a 
Swindler  —  Fast  Living,  cowardly  —  Horse-Racing  and  Prize-Fight- 
ing  —  Manliness  is  Godliness  —  False  Opinions  scorn  Labor  —  "  Only 
a  Mechanic"  —  The  Fashion  of  Useless  People — "Only  a  Third- 
class  Carriage  "  —  Story  concerning  Lady  Charlotte  Guest  —  The 
Cinder-hole  —  Labor  and  Etiquette  —  Idle  Men  mischievous  —  The 
Dandy  —  Consequences  of  a  Useless  Life  —  Career  of  Beau  Brum- 
mell  —  The  Fop  in  a  Breach-of-Promise  Suit  —  Influence  of  Society 
upon  us  —  Example  better  than  Precept  —  Value  of  a  Noble  Life  — 
Ministers  and  the  Half-price  —  Genius  no  Substitute  for  Moral  Prin- 
ciple —  Burns's  Perverted  Genius  —  The  Painter  Haydon. 


VERY  young  man  considers  it  high 
praise  to  be  called  a  "manly  fellow;" 
and  yet  how  many  false  ideas  there  are 
of  manliness !  Physical  strength  is  not 
the  test.  Samson  was  endowed  with  tre- 
mendous bodily  powers.  He  was  a  grand 
specimen  of  humanity.  See  him  rending 
the  lion  as  he  would  a  kid,  or  carrying  away 
the  gates  of  Gaza !  But  he  was  a  weak  creature  after 
all,  unable  to  resist  the  wiles  of  an  artful  woman. 

Great  intellect  is  not  the  test  of  true  manhood. 
Some  of  the  most  intellectual  men  who  have  ever 
lived  were  not  manly.  Francis,  Lord  Bacon,  was  a 
prodigy  of  intellect,  —  the  Sciences  sat  at  his  feet  ex- 
tolling him  as  their  benefactor;  yet  we  see  him  led 

178 


VICE   IS  UNMANLY.  179 

down  Tower  Hill  a  prisoner  for  swindling!  Was  he 
manly  when  as  Lord  Chancellor  he  took  with  one 
hand  £300,  and  with  the  other  £400  from  the  op- 
posing suitor,  and  then  gave  judgment  in  favor  of  the 
£400?  See  him  enter  his  prison,  convicted  of  bribery, 
fraud,  and  deceit!  Was  he,  with  his  great  intellect, 
manly? 

Fast  living  is  not  manliness.  Some  men  think  that 
to  strut,  and  to  swagger,  and  puff,  and  swear,  and 
become  an  adept  in  vice,  is  to  be  manly.  To  some, 
the  essentials  of  manliness  are  to  "  toss  off  their  glass 
like  a  man,"  "  spend  money  freely  like  a  man,"  "  stand 
up  in  a  fight  like  a  man,"  "  smoke  like  a  man,"  "  drive 
a  fast  horse  like  a  man ; "  forgetting  that  virtue  is 
true  manliness.  Temperance,  chastity,  truthfulness, 
fortitude,  benevolence,  are  characteristics  and  essen- 
tials of  manliness. 

There  is  no  manliness  in  sin  of  any  kind.  Vice  is 
essentially  unmanly.  Just  so  far  as  evil  habits  are 
connected  with  what  are  called  manly  sports,  degrada- 
tion follows. 

There  may  be  manliness  in  a  rowing-match,  a  foot- 
race, games  of  cricket  or  ball,  pitching  quoits,  skat- 
ing, if  disconnected  with  gambling;  but  prize-fighting, 
dog-fighting,  cock-fighting,  are  not  manly  sports.  I 
express  my  own  opinion  in  saying  that  I  do  not  con- 
sider horse-racing  a  manly  amusement.  Of  the  two, 
I  think  prize-fighting  the  more  honorable.  If  two 
men  choose  to  train  themselves  to  endurance,  patience, 
and  skill,  and  then  meet  of  their  own  free  will  to 
batter  themselves  to  pieces,  I  consider  it  is  more  manly 
than  to  drive  a  horse,  with  whip  and  spur,  till  his 
reeking  sides  are  covered  with  foam  and  dripping 
with  blood  and  sweat,  his  nostrils  distended  and  bleed- 


180  "OH,  MY  HORSES!" 

ing,  his  whole  frame  quivering  with  pain  and  exhaus- 
tion, for  the  sake  of  sport,  and  transferring  cash  from 
the  pocket  of  one  man  to  that  of  another  without  an 
equivalent. 

To  be  manly  is  to  be  honest,  generous,  brave,  noble, 
and  pure  in  speech  and  life.  The  highest  form  of 
manliness  is  godliness.  Some  one  has  said,  "  An 
honest  man  is  the  noblest  work  of  God."  If  we 
mean  honesty  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word, 
it  is  not  true ;  a  merely  honest  man  is  not  the  noblest 
work  of  God,  but  the  man  who  is  honest  toward  God 
and  toward  his  fellow-man,  —  in  short,  a  Christian 
man,  —  is  the  noblest  work  of  God. 

There  is  a  class  of  men  and  women  who  despise 
labor,  who  avoid  all  intimacy  or  contact  with  those 
who  work  for  a  living.  "  Oh,  he  's  only  a  mechanic!" 
"  Oh,  she  lives  out !  "  Some  young  ladies  would  be 
shocked  at  the  idea  of  marrying  a  mere  mechanic. 
In  fact  it  is  the  fashion  among  the  most  useless  of  all 
God's  creatures  to  despise  those  who  are  the  most 
useful,  and  by  whom  they  obtain  all  that  makes  them 
what  they  are.  They  revel  in  the  wealth  obtained  by 
labor  while  they  heartily  despise  it. 

A  gentleman  was  travelling  on  a  train  in  England 
when  a  collision  took  place.  He  was  greatly  alarmed 
for  his  horses,  and  cried  out,  "  Oh,  my  horses !  my 
horses !  "  but,  putting  his  head  out  of  the  window,  he 
exclaimed,  "Ah,  thank  God!  it's  only  a  third-class 
carriage ! " 

A  story  is  told  of  Lady  Charlotte  Guest,  the  prin- 
cipal proprietor  of  the  Dowlais  Iron  Works.  Her 
aristocratic  friends,  while  they  enjoyed  her  princely 
hospitality,  had  often  sneered  at  her  extensive  iron 
works,  which  they  called  her  "  cinder-hole."  As  soon 


A  BALANCE-SHEET.  181 

as  the  balance-sheet  of  the  works  was  completed,  a 
copy  was  always  dispatched  to  her  wherever  she 
might  be.  On  one  occasion  she  gave  a  grand  party 
at  her  London  residence,  and  when  the  festivity  was 
at  its  height,  a  courier  arrived  from  Dowlais  with  a 
tin  box,  containing  the  expected  document.  Lady 
Charlotte  ordered  it  to  be  brought  to  her  in  the  bril- 
liantly-lighted saloon,  where  she  was  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  her  aristocratic  friends  and  relatives,  who 
probably  occasionally  enjoyed  a  sneer  at  the  "  cinder- 
hole." 

"What's  that,  Lady  Charlotte?" 

All  crowded  around  the  tin  box. 

"  'Tis  our  balance-sheet." 

"Balance-sheet!"  exclaimed  the  fair  aristocrats. 
"What's  a  balance-sheet?" 

"  It 's  an  account  made  up  and  showing  the  profits 
down  at  the  works  for  the  last  twelve  months." 

The  company  laughed,  for  they  thought  of  the  "cin- 
der-hole." "  And  so  that's  a  balance-sheet !  "  crowd- 
ing round  the  paper  with  the  double  entries,  and  the 
red  lines,  looking  on  it  as  a  phenomenon.  "  Why,  I 
never  saw  one  before!  But  what  are  the  profits?" 

Lady  Charlotte,  not  seeming  to  heed  them,  said  as 
though  she  spoke  to  herself: 

"  Three  hundred  thousand  pounds !  a  very  fairyear," 
and  she  recommitted  the  balance-sheet  to  its  tin  case, 
while  peeresses  looked  almost  petrified. 

"  Three  hundred  thousand  pounds  profits !  What, 
you  don't  mean  that  in  one  year?" 

"  In  one  year,"  was  the  reply,  as  though  there  was 
nothing  at  all  remarkable  about  the  matter. 

"  I'd  be  a  Cinderella  myself! "  said  a  Border  count- 
ess, "  to  a  husband  with  such  a  business.  Three  hun- 


182  "LET  us  BE  GENTEEL." 

dred  thousand  pounds,  and  all  from  that  nasty  cold 
iron,  —  it  beats  the  glass  slipper !  " 

"  Labor  is  the  great  law  of  the  universe ;  labor  is 
the  law  of  humanity;  labor  is  essential  to  the  healthy 
development  of  our  physical,  intellectual,  and  moral 
life."  Think  of  a  man  doing  nothing!  What  weari- 
ness! What  an  intolerable  life!  Why,  the  most 
dreadful  punishment  is  solitary  confinement  with 
nothing  to  do.  Men  have  committed  suicide,  weary 
of  living  to  eat,  drink,  and  sleep.  Idle  men  are  gen- 
erally mischievous,  arising  from  the  fact  that  a  man 
must  do  something,  and  those  who  despise  honorable 
labor  verify  the  truth  of  Dr.  Watts's  lines: 

"  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still  for  idle  hands  to  do." 

They  could  sympathize  with  the  boy  who  sings : 

/ 
"  I  wish  I  was  the  President  of  these  United  States  ; 

I  never  would  do  nothing,  but  swing  on  all  the  gates  ! " 

and  well  would  it  be  for  society  if  they  did  nothing 
worse;  but  what  miseries,  what  mental  dyspepsia 
afflicts  the  wretch  who  has  nothing  to  do ! 

Ezekiel  says,  "  Behold  this  was  the  iniquity  of  thy 
sister  Sodom;  pride,  fulness  of  bread,  and  abundance 
of  idleness  was  in  her!  " 

Milton  puts  this  sentiment  into  the  lips  of  Adam, 
"  God  hath  set  labor  and  rest  as  day  and  night  to  men 
successive."  Man  must  labor.  We  must  all  earn  our 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  the  brow,  or  of  the  brain,  either 
with  the  hands,  or  feet,  or  head,  on  the  bench,  at  the 
bar,  in  the  pulpit,  in  the  press,  on  the  deck,  or  in  the 
trenches,  behind  the  counter  or  in  the  counting-house. 

It  is  the  great  ambition  of  a  class  to  be  genteel,  as 
Mrs.  Bichley  says,  "  Let  us  be  genteel  or  die ! "  We 


BEAU  BRUMMELL..  183 

must  do  the  genteel  thing.  Better  tell  a  lie  than 
break  the  rules  of  gentility!  By  gentility  I  do  not 
mean  good  breeding,  or  politeness.  It  is  bad  manners 
to  push  a  knife  into  your  mouth  while  eating  —  very 
bad!  but  not  so  bad  as  to  forget  your  true  friends 
and  follow  after  those  of  a  higher  degree.  It  is  bad 
manners  not  to  distinguish  a  fork  from  a  toothpick, 
but  it  is  not  so  mean  as  to  be  ashamed  of  honest  pov- 
erty, or  blush  for  an  honorable  calling.  The  gentility 
I  mean  is  a  "  diabolical  invention  which  kills  natural 
kindness  and  honest  friendship."  The  most  genteel 
people  are  often  the  most  heartless. 

One  of  the  most  useless  of  all  human  animals  is 
the  dandy.  He  is  a  creation  of  the  tailor.  You  meas- 
ure his  worth  by  the  yard.  You  are  puzzled  to  know 
whether  he  is  a  female  gentleman,  or  a  male  lady; 
he  will  exhibit  himself  to  the  admiration,  as  he  sup- 
poses, of  every  lady  who  is  so  fortunate  as  to  cross 
his  path.  He  does  nothing  for  himself,  or  anybody 
else ;  his  occupation  is  to  dress,  and  perfume  himself, 
and  carry  a  dainty  little  cane,  doing  himself  up  as  if 
he  were  a  shirt. 

There  can  hardly  be  a  better  lesson  taught  of  the 
consequences  of  a  useless  life  than  that  presented  by 
the  brilliant  yet  melancholy  career  of  Beau  Brummell, 
the  refined,  the  fastidious  Beau  Brummell,  the  "  glass 
of  fashion  and  the  mould  of  form,"  "  the  observed  of 
all  observers,"  the  companion  and  pet  of  royalty  and 
the  nobility.  At  the  last  of  his  life  he  could  not  be 
kept  clean.  The  poor,  "  dandled,  deserted,  doomed, 
demented  dandy,  died  wretchedly  on  a  straw  mattress, 
in  such  a  disgusting  state  as  cannot  be  described." 

Yet  after  all,  some  of  these  fops  estimate  themselves 
at  about  a  fair  price,  as  in  a  suit  for  damages  in  a 
12 


184  EXAMPLE   VS.   PRECEPT. 

breach-of-promise  case,  one  of  this  class  was  offered 
two  hundred  dollars  to  settle  it.  "  Two  hundred  dol- 
lars! Two  hundred  dollars  for  ruined  hopes,  for 
blighted  affections,  for  a  wretched  existence!  Two 
hundred  dollars  for  a  blasted  life !  Two  hundred  dol- 
lars for  all  this!  No,  never!  never!  Make  it  three 
hundred  dollars,  and  it's  a  bargain! " 

Almost  every  man  is  sensible  of  the  influence  of 
society  on  his  own  mind.  We  are  often  conscious  of 
the  influence  for  evil  or  good  of  a  single  mind  with 
which  we  are  brought  in  close  contact.  "  A  doubter 
will  awaken  in  us  a  spirit  of  doubt;  the  caviller,  a 
captious  spirit;  the  cold-natured  chills  our  own  feel- 
ings; the  man  of  low  aims  or  small  energy  often 
leaves  us  listless,  hopeless,  or  inoperative;  the  man  of 
life,  spirit,  determination,  and  energy  seems  to  quicken 
and  inspire  our  own  nature."  The  exhibition  of  what 
is  noble,  the  embodiment  of.  what  is  right,  beautiful, 
and  heroic  in  a  life,  produces  a  far  greater  effect  on 
the  human  heart  than  precept  or  exhortation.  "  Ex- 
ample is  better  than  precept." 

When  Lord  Peterborough  lodged  for  a  season  with 
Fenelon,  he  said  at  parting,  "  I  shall  become  a  Chris- 
tian in  spite  of  myself." 

A  young  man,  about  to  be  ordained,  stated  that  at 
one  period  of  his  life  he  had  been  nearly  betrayed 
into  the  principles  of  infidelity ;  "  but,"  said  he,  "  there 
was  one  argument  in  favor  of  Christianity  I  could 
never  refute,  and  that  was  the  consistent  conduct  of 
my  own  father." 

How  many  professed  Christians  fail  in  exerting  an 
influence  by  inconsistency,  their  precepts  differing 
from  their  practice. 

A  story  is  told  of  a  minister,  who,  wishing  to  take 


"PAY  LIKE   A  HEATHEN."  185 

advantage  of  the  custom  of  charging  ministers  out 
"West  half  price,  said  to  the  landlord  of  a  hotel  where 
he  had  put  up,  "  I  am  a  minister."  "  What !  you  a 
minister!  I  should  never  have  guessed  it;  you  asked 
no  blessing  at  your  meals.  I  went  with  you  to  your 
room,  and  took  away  the  light,  and  you  did  not  say 
your  prayers.  You  ate  like  a  heathen,  drank  like  a 
heathen,  slept  like  a  heathen,  and  I  guess  you  had 
better  pay  like  a  heathen." 

All  the  talent,  intellect,  or  genius  that  men  ever 
possessed  will  not  compensate  for  the  want  of  fixed, 
moral  principle.  In  the  world's  history,  how  many 
sad  instances  appear  of  men  of  genius  dwarfed  like 
wilted  weeds,  for  the  lack  of  moral  principle,  for  the 
want  of  moral  courage,  shrinking  ever  from  asserting 
what  their  own  conscience  dictates  as  right,  if  it 
shocks  the  prejudices  of  others;  some  are  even  like 
a  very  celebrated  poet,  with  a  warm  heart,  generous 
disposition,  brave,  and  at  times  with  high  impulses,  as 
when  he  penned  the  "  Cotter's  Saturday  ]S"ight;  "  but 
who  for  the  lack  of  firm,  moral,  and  religious  princi- 
ples, left  behind  him  monuments  of  his  perverted 
genius,  in  the  shape  of  unpublished  poems,  songs,  and 
letters,  at  which  humanity  must  blush,  and  at  which 
angels  themselves  might  weep.  Had  he  foreseen  all 
the  evil  effects  that  some  of  his  writings  were  to  pro- 
duce in  that  dear  old  Scotland  he  loved  so  warmly,  he 
would  have  burned  them  and  his  pen  too.  A  little 
before  his  death,  he  bitterly  deplored  the  existence  of 
the  unworthy  progeny  of  his  genius,  and  declined 
with  horror  the  proposal  of  some  wretch  of  a  book- 
seller to  publish  them  in  full.* 

*  Byron  said  of  Burns:  What  an  antithetical  mind,  —  tenderness, 
roughness ;  delicacy,  coarseness ;  sentiment,  sensuality ;  soaring  and  grov- 
elling ;  dirt  and  Deity ;  —  all  mixed  up  in  that  compound  of  inspired  clay ! 


186  HAYDON   THE   PAINTEE. 

I  might  speak  of  many  others,  who  by  their  per- 
verted genius  have  "  fanned  the  polluted  fires  of  de- 
bauchery; have  shed  a  rainbow  lustre  around  mere 
animalism;  taught  blasphemers  a  more  pithy  pro- 
fanity; insulted  religion  through  its  forms  and  its 
professors;  treated  sacred  things  with  levity;  and 
produced  immeasurable  mischief"  among  the  young 
of  both  sexes. 

The  painter  Haydon  said :  "  Wilkie's  system  was 
Wellington's,  —  principle  and  prudence  the  ground- 
work of  risk.  Mine,"  says  he,  "  was  .Napoleon's,  — 
audacity,  with  a  defiance  of  principle,  if  principle  is 
in  the  way.  I  get  into  prison"  (and,  poor  fellow!  he 
killed  himself  soon  after) ;  "  Napoleon  died  at  St. 
Helena;  Wellington  is  living,  and  honored;  Wilkie 
has  secured  a  competency;  while  I  am  poor  and  ne- 
cessitous as  ever." 

Let  no  man  use  evil  as  a  means  for  the  success  of 
any  scheme,  however  grand.  "Permission  of  evil 
that  good  may  come "  may  be  the  prerogative  of 
Deity,  and  should  never  be  ventured  on  by  mortals. 

Poor  Haydon  said  once,  "  There  are  three  things  I 
long  to  see  before  I  die :  the  Americans  thrashed  at 
sea,  my  own  debts  paid,  and  historical  painting  en- 
couraged by  the  government."  Poor  Haydon!  he 
died  deeply  in  debt,  neglected  by  the  government, 
and  the  Americans  unthrashed  at  sea. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HAPPINESS    AND    TRUE    HEROISM.  —  GOLD,    WHAT    IT 
DOES   AND   WHAT   IT    DOES    NOT   BRING. 


Signing  away  Liberty  —  False  Ideas  of  Happiness  —  Rothschild  —  John 
Jacob  Astor  —  A  Girl's  Idea  of  Perfect  Happiness  —  The  Snow- 
blocked  Train  —  Lord  Chesterfield's  Confession  —  Irishman's  Com- 
plaint of  the  Moon  —  "If"  —  The  Two  Buckets  —  Sir  John  Sinclair 
and  the  Laborer  —  "A  New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts" — The  History 
of  Misers  —  Experience  of  a  Millionnaire  —  "  The  Happiest  Fellows 
in  the  World  "  —  Anecdote  of  John  Wilson  —  Happiness  among  the 
Poor  —  Lord  Braco  and  the  Farthing  —  The  Celebrity  and  his  Hat  — 
The  Burden  of  a  Debt  —  The  Clergyman  and  the  Collection  —  Dodging 
Creditors  —  Indebtedness  degrades  —  Extravagance  —  Church  Debts 
—  Sacrifice  for  Others  —  Moral  Heroism  —  Victory  over  Self. 


(HAT  false  ideas  many  entertain  of 
freedom!  Every  man  desires  to 
be  free.  God  has  implanted  the 
desire  in  every  human  heart. 
What  is  freedom?  A  man  once 
told  me  he  would  not  sign  the 
pledge,  because  that  would  be  the 
signing  away  of  his  liberty !  "  What 
liberty?"  "Why,  to  do  as  I  please." 
To  do  as  you  please?  Is  that  liberty?  There 
is  no  liberty  without  law;  it  is  licentiousness.  To 
do  as  you  please,  independent  of  the  law  of  God, 
is  to  be  a  slave.  He  only  is  a  free  man  who  renders 
Btrict  and  steadfast  obedience  to  righteous  law.  True 

187 


188  BOARD    AND   CLOTHES. 

liberty  consists  as  much  in  exemption  from  the  slavery 
within,  as  the  slavery  without. 

Remember,  young  man,  whatever  elevates  man's 
nature,  whatever  lifts  him  above  the  trammels  of 
earth  and  raises  him  nearer  heaven,  brings  him  nearer 
the  standard  of  true  freedom;  and  every  passion  in- 
dulged is  a  fetter  placed  on  his  intellect;  every  loiter- 
ing in  the  mazes  of  unwholesome  pleasure,  if  at  all 
redeemed,  must  one  day  be  redeemed  at  too  dear  a 
price.  ~No  man  ever  excelled  without  the  exercise  of 
self-denial.  Beneath  the  allurements  of  passion  there 
lurks  a  worse  than  Egyptian  bondage. 

Very  few  people  in  this  world  are  contented  — 
thoroughly  contented.  A  man  once  put  up  a  board 
on  his  land,  with  this  notice :  "  I  will  give  this  field  to 
any  one  who  is  really  contented."  An  applicant  came. 
"  Are  you  really  contented  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Then  what 
do  you  want  my  field  for?  " 

We  have  false  ideas  of  happiness.  "What  will  make 
me  happy  —  contented?  "Oh,  if  I  were  rich,  I 
should  be  happy!  "  A  gentleman  who  was  enjoying 
the  hospitalities  of  the  great  millionnaire  and  king  of 
finance,  Rothschild,  as  he  looked  at  the  superb  ap- 
pointments of  the  mansion,  said  to  his  host,  "You 
must  be  a  happy  man."  "  Happy?  "  said  he,  "  happy! 
I  happy  —  happy !  Ay,  happy !  Let  us  change  the 
subject." 

John  Jacob  Astor  was  told  that  he  must  be  a  very 
happy  man,  being  so  rich.  "  "Why,"  said  he,  "  would 
you  take  care  of  my  property  for  your  board  and 
clothes?  That's  all  I  get  for  it," 

-I  remember  some  years  ago  being  very  much 
amused  at  the  idea  of  perfect  happiness  expressed  by 
a  young  girl.  On  a  very  stormy  night,  the  train  be- 


BREAD   AND   BUTTER.  189 

tween  Syracuse  and  Utica  was  blocked  by  snow,  and 
we  were  compelled  to  remain  in  the  cars  all  night  on 
the  track.  Of  course,  we  were  hungry,  and  the  wel- 
come news  was  brought  to  the  patient  passengers  that 
tea,  bread  and  butter,  ham  and  eggs,  could  be  obtained 
at  a  house  but  a  few  rods  distant  from  the  cars.  Off 
I  started,  in  the  driving  snow,  stumbling  along  as  best 
I  could,  and  found  the  house.  The  room,  almost  the 
only  one  in  it,  was  crowded  with  eager  seekers  after 
food.  I  waited  some  time  to  get  a  chance,  when  I 
accosted  a  young  girl  —  plump,  rosy,  and  apparently 
very  good-natured  —  as  she  was  rushing  around,  all 
excitement.  I  said,  "  Will  you  please  give  me  some 
bread  and  butter  and  tea  to  take  to  a  lady  in  the 
cars?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  very  volubly;  "  bread  and  but- 
ter! certainly.  I'll  give  you  some  bread  and  butter. 
How  much  do  you  want;  two  or  three  slices?  thick 
or  thin?  much  butter  or  little?  Certainly  you  shall 
have  some  bread  and  butter." 

"And  tea,"  I  said. 

"Ah,  yes;  tea.  What  have  you  got  to  put  it  in? 
You  can't  carry  a  cup  and  saucer  and  a  handful  of 
bread  and  butter  through  the  snow.  You'll  fall  down 
and  spill  the  tea.  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I've  got 
a  mug  —  it's  a  pretty  mug.  I'll  lend  it  to  you ;  but 
you  must  not  break  it,  and  you  must  bring  it  back." 

When  she  brought  the  refreshments,  she  said: 

"  Now  I'll  fix  you.  Hold  the  bread  and  butter  in 
one  hand;  now  put  your  finger  through  the  handle 
of  the  mug.  There,  you  are  all  right;  but  bring  back 
the  mugl" 

"  You  have  a  great  number  of  visitors  at  your  house 
to-night?  " 


190  HAVING  A  BEAU. 

"Yes,"  she  replied;  "more  than  I  ever  saw  in  this 
house  in  all  my  life." 

"  You  look  very  happy." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  her  face  beaming  with  brightness ; 
"it's  perfectly  delightful.  I  like  company;  it's  splen- 
did. I'm  just  as  happy  as  ever  I  can  be.  Why,  do 
you  know  it's  almost  as  good  as  having  a  beau?  " 

I  hope  the  young  lady  by  this  time  knows  by  expe- 
rience what  it  is  to  realize  something  more  than  per- 
fect happiness.  We  sometimes  hear  the  remark: 

"  Oh !  if  I  could  be  elegant  and  accomplished  and 
conspicuous,  I  should  be  happy."  Few  men  have  ever 
possessed  greater  advantages  for  the  attainment  and 
enjoyment  of  worldly  pleasures,  and  no  man  drank 
deeper  of  the  draught,  than  Lord  Chesterfield.  Hear 
him,  at  the  last:  "I  have  seen  the  silly  rounds  of 
business  and  of  pleasure,  and  have  done  with  them 
all.  I  have  enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
and  do  not  regret  their  loss.  I  appraise  them  at  their 
real  value,  which  is  in  truth  very  low.  I  have  been 
behind  the  scenes.  I  have  seen  all  the  coarse  pulleys 
and  dirty  ropes  which  exhibit  and  move  the  gaudy 
machines;  and  I  have  seen  and  smelt  the  tallow  can- 
dles which  illuminated  the  whole  decoration  to  the 
astonishment  of  the  ignorant  audience.  When  I  re- 
flect on  what  I  have  seen,  what  I  have  heard,  and 
what  I  have  done,  I  can  hardly  persuade  myself  that 
all  that  frivolous  hurry  of  bustle  and  pleasure  of  the 
world  had  any  reality ;  but  I  look  upon  all  that  is  past 
as  one  of  those  romantic  dreams  which  opium  com- 
monly occasions,  and  I  do  by  no  means  desire  to 
repeat  the  nauseous  dose  for  the  sake  of  the  fugitive 
dream.  I  think  of  nothing  but  killing  time  the  best 
way  I  can,  now  that  he  has  become  my  enemy." 


"IF  I  WAS  MARRIED."  191 

Yes,  this  killing  of  time  is  the  most  laborious  of  all 
work. 

Much  of  the  happiness  or  misery  of  our  lives  de- 
pends on  ourselves.  I  have  known  persons  who 
would  not  permit  themselves  to  be  happy,  who  always 
look  on  the  shadows  of  life.  There  is  more  light  than 
shade ;  yet  some  see  gloom  even  in  the  sunshine  — 
anticipating  trouble,  looking  out  for  disaster  — 
prophets  of  evil,  they  perceive  the  cloud  in  the 
brightest  skies. 

Observe  such  an  one ;  he  would  throw  a  damper  on 
a  funeral.  The  face  set  in  such  a  forlorn  and  doleful 
expression,  you  would  imagine  that  no  smile  could 
ripple  the  hard  surface,  or  relax  the  muscles,  so  rigid 
in  the  cast  of  utter  misery.  If  the  sun  shines  on  a 
bright  morning:  "Ah,  it  won't  last  long!  there's  a 
mackerel  sky."  They  are  almost  vexed  at  the  moon 
in  its  beauty,  "  because,"  as  the  Irishman  complained, 
"  it  only  shines  on  bright  nights  when  we  don't  want 
it;  if  it  would  but  give  light  when  it  is  needed,  it 
would  be  worth  while."  They  make  themselves  mis- 
erable by  the  most  absurd  anticipations  of  what  may 
come;  like  the  servant-girl,  who  had  never  even  re- 
ceived an  oflfer  of  marriage,  sitting  on  the  curb  of  the 
cistern,  crying  bitterly. 

"What  is  the  matter?" 

"  Oh,  dear !  I  was  thinking  that  if  I  was  married, 
and  my  baby  should  fall  in  the  cistern  and  be  drowned, 
how  dreadfully  I  should  feel." 

Yes,  and  such  persons  do  feel  dreadfully  in  antici- 
pation of  what  they  should  feel  if —  thus  borrow- 
ing trouble.  Why,  man,  wake  up !  Come  out  of  the 
dreary  atmosphere  of  ifs.  Look  about  you.  Have 
you  no  blessings?  As  the  poor  slave  did,  "reckon 


192  A   CONTENTED   MAN. 

up  your  marcies."  Are  you  in  pain?  No.  Are  you 
pinched  and  poor?  No.  Have  your  enemies  tri- 
umphed over  you?  No.  Then  what  is  the  matter? 
Rouse  yourself  from  this  chronic  state  of  self-imposed 
misery  —  it  does  not  pay.  You  are  cheating  yourself; 
you  are  drawing  poison,  like  the  spider,  from  the  very 
flowers.  Cheer  up,  man!  and,  like  the  bee,  suck 
honey. 

"  How  dismal  you  look !  "  said  a  bucket  to  his  com- 
panion, as  they  were  going  to  the  well. 

"  Ah !  "  replied  the  other,  "  I  was  reflecting  on  the 
uselessness  of  our  being  filled,  for  let  us  go  away  ever 
so  full,  we  always  come  back  empty." 

"  Dear  me !  how  strange  to  look  at  it  in  that  way," 
said  the  bucket.  "Now  I  enjoy  the  thought  that 
however  empty  we  come,  we  always  go  away  full. 
Only  look  at  it  in  that  light,  and  you  will  be  as  cheer- 
ful as  I  am." 

An  old  colored  woman,  over  a  hundred  years  of  age, 
said  in  answer  to  the  inquiry,  "  Are  you  thankful  for 
your  pains?"  "  Yes,  missus,  I'se  thankful  for  ebery 
ting  as  it  comes  I'se  obleeged  to  ye." 

Sir  John  Sinclair  once  alighted  from  his  chariot 
near  a  singularly  abject-looking  hovel,  and  entered 
into  conversation  with  an  old  laborer  who  lived  there 
alone.  On  leaving,  he  asked  if  he  could  serve  him  in 
any  way. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  look  of  honest  con- 
tentment, "there  is  not  in  this  world  a  thing  that  I 
want." 

Sir  John  often  said  that  poor  abode  was  the  only 
home  in  which  he  had  found  perfect  happiness,  and 
requested  his  daughter  to  draw  him  a  picture  of  that 
one-windowed  hut  where  lived  a  man  who  had  not  a 


MONEY-GETTING.  193 

wish  ungratified.  When  Sir  John  wished  the  great 
Lord  Melville  on  his  birthday  many  happy  years,  the 
minister  of  state  replied,  "  They  must  be  happier  than 
the  last,  for  I  have  not  had  one  happy  day  in  it." 

When  blessings  come  like  "  birds  to  the  windows 
of  your  soul,  singing  their  joyous  notes  and  seeking 
a  responsive  melody  in  your  own  heart,  why  put  shut- 
ters on  the  windows,  why  draw  down  the  blinds  and 
miss  the  sweet  warbling  and  the  comfort  through 
your  own  perverseness?  Tear  down  the  blinds,  let 
the  flood  of  sunshine  pour  into  your  heart;,  throw 
wide  open  the  shutters ;  let  the  music  float  in ;  "  take 
a  cheerful  view  of  life;  come  out  of  the  gloom  of 
your  morbid  apprehensions  —  it  will  pay,  and  you 
will  look  from  the  heights  into  the  dreary  cell  of  your 
miserable  fancies,  as  men  look  into  the  dark  dungeon 
from  which  they  have  escaped. 

Many  men  destroy  the  happiness  of  their  lives  by 
the  absorbing  passion  for  money-getting.  It  is  not 
an  unworthy  ambition  to  get  rich,  to  accumulate  prop- 
erty; but  the  real  gain  depends  on  how  you  get  it, 
and  how  you  use  it.  While  money  may  be  a  blessing 
to  the  possessor,  and  through  him  a  blessing  to  the 
world,  it  may  be  and  often  is  a  curse  to  the  owner, 
and  through  him  a  curse  to  the  world.  Ask  the  man 
who  has  stooped  to  mercantile  dishonor  and  baseness, 
•and  who  by  successful  villany  and  swindling  has  real- 
ized an  envied  fortune,  "What  have  you  gained? " 

"I  have  been  shrewd,  long-headed,  smart.  I  am 
prosperous  and  a  man  of  capital." 

Is  that  all?  A  philosopher  has  said,  "Though  a 
man  without  money  is  poor,  a  man  with  nothing  but 
money  is  poorer."  What  has  such  a  man  but  money? 
Every  piece  of  plate  on  his  sumptuous  table  may  re- 


194  MAN   OF   CAPITAL. 

fleet  the  pinched  face  of  a  hungry  creditor,  and  the 
music  in  his  gorgeous  entertainments  be  discordant 
with  the  cry  of  a  defrauded  orphan.  When  Sir  Giles 
Overreach  in  Massinger's  play  of  A  New  Way  to  Pay 
Old  Debts  attempts  to  draw  his  sword,  he  is  driven 
to  bay,  and  says: 

"Ha!  I  am  feeble.    Some  undone  widow  sits  upon  my  arm, 
And  takes  away  the  use  of  it ;  and  my  sword, 
Glued  to  my  scabbard,  with  wronged  orphans'  tears, 
Will  not  be  drawn.     Ha!     What?    Are  these  hangmen 
That  come  to  bind  my  hands  and  then  to  drag  me 
Before  the  judgment-seat?    Now  they  are  new  shapes 
And  do  appear  like  furies  with  steel  whips 
To  scourge  my  ulcerous  soul." 

"Yes,  he  is  a  man  of  capital;  he  owns  houses, 
lands,  stocks,  and  shares."  Capital!  What  is  capi- 
tal? Character  is  capital;  honor  is  capital.  What 
capital  has  a  man  when  integrity  and  honor  are  gone, 
bartered  for  a  miserable  mess  of  pottage?  Capital! 
when  everything  noble  is  stranded  as  an  outcast  thing 
on  the  sands  of  dishonor.  He  must  be  judged  by 
what  he  is,  not  by  what  he  has.  What  has  he?  By 
heartless  villany  he  has  capital.  What  is  he?  Wretch- 
edly poor  in  all  that  constitutes  true  and  noble  manli- 
ness. Perish  gold  and  estate,  stocks  and  shares;  but 
give  me  integrity  and  honor,  and  when  I  die  let  me 
leave  the  record  of  an  upright  life. 

Gold  is  a  good  thing  in  charitable  fingers,  but  not 
when  it  becomes  a  golden  calf  for  men's  worship; 
then  it  does  not  pay.  Paulding  said,  "Money  has 
become  our  god,  or  rather  our  demon,  and  the  belief 
seems  to  be  fast  gaining  ground  that  to  win  a  fortune 
and  lose  a  soul  is  playing  for  a  stake  worthy  of 
rational  and  immortal  beings." 


USES   OF   MONEY.  195 

The  madness  for  money  is  among  the  strongest  and 
lowest  of  the  passions.  How  pitiful  to  see  a  man 
willing  to  work,  fight,  beg,  starve,  lie,  cheat,  shave 
and  steal  for  money,  only  to  hoard  it,  gloat  over  it, 
count  it,  and  handle  it!  Miserable  is  the  man,  with 
all  his  glorious  faculties,  whose  sole  ambition  is  to 
get  and  hold  money,  and  then  worship  it,  —  commune 
with  it,  think  about  it,  plan  to  get  more  of  it,  content 
never  to  part  with  it,  when  it  becomes  the  sovereign 
good,  yes,  the  heaven  of  a  human  spirit!  Such  a 
man  might  almost  travesty  the  language  of  devotion, 
and,  making  gold  his  god,  say  of  it  what  the  Psalmist 
said,  in  his  lofty  aspirations  after  the  highest  good, 
"Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee?  and  there  is 
none  on  earth  I  desire  above  thee,"  —  to  prize  it,  not 
for  its  uses,  but  for  itself;  —  such  a  man,  with  untold 
wealth,  is  poor  indeed. 

A  miser  has  been  known  to  die  in  the  dark,  to  save 
the  expense  of  a  candle.  One  poor  wretch  consoled 
himself,  on  his  death-bed,  at  a  crafty  bargain  he  had 
made  concerning  his  funeral,  with  an  undertaker  who 
had  married  his  only  child.  The  history  of  misers  is 
but  a  record  of  wretched  creatures  who  have  sub- 
mitted to  inflictions,  sufferings,  and  life  toils,  to  hoard 
and  worship  money. 

Rightly  used,  money  is  a  great  blessing.  It  is  the 
procurer  of  comforts  and  luxuries,  as  well  as  the 
necessaries  of  life ;  gives  us  admission  to  many  of  the 
pleasant  places  of  God's  earth,  to  much  that  is  rare, 
curious,  and  enchanting  in  nature  and  art;  and  to 
lack  money  is  a  misfortune.  Yet  the  heaviest  ills 
that  befall  us  money  cannot  cure :  it  cannot  minister 
to  a  mind  diseased ;  it  cannot  purchase  health,  or  hin- 
der the  progress  of  decay;  it  cannot  restore  youth,  or 


196  QUEER  HAPPINESS. 

buy  back  fair  fame  to  the  dishonored ;  it  cannot  re- 
store to  the  bereaved  the  loved  ones  that  are  gone, 
nor  cure  the  many  ills  so  fatal  to  a  man's  welfare. 
Gold  may  buy  a  wife,  but  cannot  purchase  love;  it 
may  gain  civility,  but  not  respect;  it  may  introduce 
to  society,  but  cannot  procure  friendship ;  it  may  ob- 
tain servility,  but  not  esteem;  it  may  buy  position 
and  sumptuous  living,  but  cannot  purchase  happiness, 
—  that  is  a  home-made  article ;  it  no  more  consists  in 
the  accumulation  of  wealth  than  in  snuffing  up  the 
east  wind. 

A  millionnaire,  upon  being  asked  what  was  the  hap- 
piest period  of  his  life,  promptly  said,  "  When  I  was 
working  on  a  farm  at  twelve  dollars  a  month." 

Some  men  have  queer  ideas  of  happiness.  A  cap- 
tain of  a  man-of-war  said,  "I  have  left  my  ship's 
company  the  happiest  fellows  in  the  world:  I've  just 
flogged  one  half  of  them,  and  they  are  glad  it's  over, 
and  the  others  are  glad  they  did  not  get  it." 

John  Wilson,  after  fishing  in  a  loch  in  Selkirkshire, 
nearly  all  day,  without  a  nibble,  watched  all  the  time 
by  a  shepherd  and  his  dog,  was  turning  despondently 
away,  when  the  shepherd  said: 

"  Ye'll  no  hae  killed  mony  trout?  " 

"No;  I've  had  no  sport  at  all,  —  not  a  nibble." 

"  I  dare  say  no ;  for  it's  weel  kent  there  was  never 
a  trout  in  that  loch  since  the  beginning  of  crea- 
tion." 

A  man  who  seeks  happiness  in  mere  money  is  fish- 
ing where  there  has  been  no  fish  since  the  creation  of 
the  world. 

A  poor  man  laughs  oftener  than  a  rich  man.  There 
is  more  merriment  in  the  homes  of  the  poor  than  is 
generally  found  in  those  of  the  rich;  for  with  the 


STOP   THAT  NOISE.  197 

deep-seated  and  rankling  anxiety,  the  wearying  solici- 
tude that  often  accompanies  wealth,  pressing  on  his 
inmost  soul,  a  man  cannot  be  happy.  The  griping 
screw,  whose  god  is  Mammon,  fattens  on  the  misery 
of  others,  as  the  vulture  on  carrion;  stalks  up  and 
down  like  a  commercial  buzzard,  tearing  away  the 
substance  of  his  victim.  Can  he  be  happy?  Why, 
the  workings  of  his  mercenary  soul  tell  on  his  very 
features;  his  extortion  and  usury  harden  his  heart, 
stain  his  soul,  and  diminish  his  happiness  by  lowering 
the  standard  of  self-respect.  How  mean  men  grow 
by  this  love  of  money! 

"  I've  been  a  member  of  this  church  twenty  years, 
and  it  has  only  cost  me  twenty-five  cents!"  said  a 
man  in  a  social  meeting ;  when  the  minister  said : 

"  The  Lord  have  mercy  on  your  poor  little  stingy 
soul!" 

I  heard  of  one  very  noisy  in  prayer-meetings,  and 
who  on  one  occasion,  by  his  shouting  "Amen ! "  and 
the  like,  disturbed  the  meeting  so  much  that  the  leader 
requested  a  brother  to  try  and  stop  that  noise.  In  a 
moment  the  exclamations  ceased. 

"  How  did  you  succeed  so  quickly?  " 

"  Oh,  I  just  asked  him  for  a  dollar  for  foreign  mis- 
sions, and  that  stopped  him." 

Poor  Lord  Braco,  rich  in  gold  and  silver,  but  poor 
in  all  that  constitutes  true  manliness,  once  picked  up 
a  farthing.  A  beggar  passing,  asked  his  lordship  to 
give  it  to  him,  as  it  was  so  small  a  coin.  The  pos- 
sessor of  thousands  of  pounds  sterling  said,  as  he 
carefully  buttoned  up  his  pocket,  "  Find  a  farthing 
for  yourself,  you  poor  body !  " 

A  story  is  related  of  a  certain  celebrity,  who  inquir- 
ing the  price  of  hats,  the  storekeeper  presented  him 


198  BURDEN   OF   DEBT. 

with  a  valuable  beaver,  and  asked  his  acceptance 
of  it. 

"Ah,  thank  you,  —  thank  you  very  much.  How 
much  should  you  ask  for  this  hat?  " 

"  Eight  dollars." 

"And  you  give  it  to  me?  Almost  too  good  for  me 
to  wear.  What's  the  price  of  this  one?" 

"  Oh,  that's  not  a  good  hat.     Only  three  dollars." 

"And  you  say  you  give  me  this?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  will  accept  it." 

"  Well  now,  suppose  I  take  the  three-dollar  hat, 
and  you  give  me  the  five  dollars,  if  it  will  be  all  the 
same  to  you,"  —  which  was  actually  done ! 

A  gentleman  once  asked  why  a  certain  person  did 
not  pull  out  the  beam  from  his  own  eye.  Foote  re- 
plied, "  So  he  would,  if  he  could  sell  the  timber." 

There  are  very  few  things  in  this  world  that  will 
destroy  or  mar  a  man's  happiness  more  than  the  con- 
sciousness of  debt;  very  few  things  are  heavier  than 
its  burden.  What  an  awful  incubus  is  the  dread  of 
duns ;  to  be  afraid,  in  walking  the  streets,  of  meeting 
a  creditor ;  to  avoid  one  store  after  another,  till  nearly 
all  are  closed  to  you ;  to  dread  the  arrival  of  the  mail, 
fearing  a  reminder  of  debt;  to  sneak  about,  with 
furtive  glances  on  either  side!  How  the  blood  will 
tingle  at  the  curt  question,  "  When  will  it  be  conven- 
ient for  you  to  settle  that  little  bill?"  It  is  always 
a  little  bill,  though  it  might  take  all  you  are  worth  to 
pay  it.  Oh,  the  misery  of  being  dunned !  Men  have 
been  driven  almost  mad  by  it,  —  I  speak  of  sensitive 
men,  —  and  most  men  are  ashamed  of  it. 

An  eccentric  clergyman  obtained  an  enormous  col- 
lection by  requesting  that  no  one  should  contribute  or 
put  anything  on  the  plate  who  was  in  debt;  so  every 


UNWORTHY   AMBITION.  199 

one  contributed.  But  there  is  hardly  any  course  that 
will  toughen  a  man  in  meanness  more  than  the  per- 
sistent running  in  debt.  Some  men  are  constantly 
planning  to  deceive  a  creditor;  they  will  lie  unblush- 
ingly ;  make  promises  with  no  intention  of  performing. 
No  genius  can  redeem  a  man  from  the  unutterable 
meanness  of  reckless  debt.  "While  we  may  be  amused 
at  the  wit  in  dodging  a  creditor,  we  are  shocked  at 
the  heartlessness  of  the  swindler.  If  one  steals  a 
penny,  he  is  a  thief;  but  is  he  not  a  thief  who  will 
"  do  "  a  creditor,  shirk  payment  of  an  honest  bill,  or 
act  the  part  of  a  mean  trickster?  "  There  goes  a 
sculptor."  "What  do  you  mean?"  "Only  that  he 
chisels  tailors,  bootmakers,-  and  all  who  trust  him." 

How  can  a  man  strut  about  in  unpaid-for  garments, 
and  ride  in  unpaid-for  carriages,  and  gather  his  friends 
to  admire  unpaid-for  furniture,  or  eat  and  drink  at 
another's  expense,  without  an  inward  sense  of  per- 
sonal degradation?  It  does  degrade  a  man,  so  that 
you  can  almost  detect  a  shirking  debtor. 

In  these  days,  a  laborer  on  two  dollars  a  day  must 
dress  like  the  mechanic  on  four  or  five.  The  me- 
chanic must  dress  like  the  tradesman  with  an  income  of 
$5,000  a  year.  The  tradesman  must  live  like  the  mer- 
chant with  his  $20,000;  and  the  merchant  must  out- 
strip his  richer  neighbor  in  equipages,  furniture,  and 
entertainments;  thus  is  the  demon  of  debt  invoked, 
and  so  it  goes  on.  Churches  become  ambitious  of 
rivalling  or  excelling  their  neighbors  in  superb  archi- 
tecture and  gorgeous  decorations,  till,  involved  in 
debt,  their  energies  are  paralyzed,  the  minister  crip- 
pled by  the  heavy  outside  load,  the  benevolences  cur- 
tailed, and  the  strength  and  power  which,  exercised 
for  God  and  humanity,  might  and  would  advance  the 
13 


200  MORAL   HEROISM. 

best  interests  of  the  church,  and  the  salvation  of  men, 
are  expended  in  devising  ways  and  raising  means  to 
lift  the  indebtedness  incurred  in  mere  display.  Only 
under  certain  circumstances  does  it  pay  for  individ- 
uals, societies,  churches,  communities,  or  nations  to 
incur  the  heavy  load  of  debt. 

The  noblest  work  in  which  a  human  being  can  be 
engaged  is  for  others;  for  all  true  heroism  is  the 
sacrifice  of  self  for  the  good  of  others.  It  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  mere  abilities.  "We  do  not  speak  of 
heroic  talent,  heroic  genius,  heroic  intellectuality ;  but 
heroic  daring,  heroic  sacrifice,  heroic  endurance. 

There  is  a  daring  that  is  far  from  heroic.  Blondin 
was  daring,  but  no  hero;  Sam  Patch  was  daring,  but 
died  like  a  fool,  and  was  no  hero.  If  capable  of  great 
deeds,  a  man  lives  for  himself,  all  he  leaves  is  a  spec- 
tacle to  wonder  at,  and  not  a  benefit  to  enjoy.  Some 
of  the  greatest  instances  of  moral  heroism  in  which 
the  soul  of  man  has  asserted  its  Divine  origin,  may 
never  be  known  on  earth.  The  influence  has  been 
felt  in  the  defeat  of  some  legion  of  Satan's  army, 
some  array  of  deadly  vices  or  phalanx  of  wild  pas- 
sions; but  the  brave  hearts  which  wrought  the  vic- 
tory may  never  be  known  till  they  are  called  forward 
to  receive  their  crowns.  How  many  real  heroes  pass 
by  unnoticed  —  modest,  quiet,  unattractive,  and  unas- 
suming; the  gay  avoid  them,  and  pass  them  by  with 
a  sneer.  Only  those  who  know  them  fully,  honor  and 
love  them.  They  would  not  particularly  grace  a 
drawing-room;  the  thoughtless  throng  heeds  them 
not;  to  them  they  seem  stained,  marred.  Why,  my 
fine  gentleman,  these  marks  and  stains  are  honorable 
scars,  obtained  in  many  a  well-fought  battle.  They 
have  entered  the  conflict  of  life  with  brave,  true 


GLORIOUS   VICTORIES.  201 

hearts,  and  will  be  at  last  ranked  among  those  who 
"have  overcome." 

There  are  no  victories  more  glorious  than  those 
which  are  gained  over  self,  those  in  which  a  strug- 
gling soul  becomes  purified  and  ennobled  by  sacrifice 
and  suffering  for  the  good  of  others.  Ah,  sir !  "  you 
may  live  in  obscurity,  and  fight  your  battles  noise- 
lessly; no  historian  may  record  your  name;  no  monu- 
ment be  erected  to  your  memory;  you  may  bear  the 
look  of  scorn  and  contempt,  the  world's  sneers "  — 
what  of  all  that?  A  time  is  coming  when  the  "  intel- 
ligent universe  will  adjudicate  aright;  "  when  the  man 
who  masters  an  evil  passion,  battles  a  popular  vice, 
fights  a  ruinous  error,  will  be  deemed  worthy  of 
higher  praise  than  earth's  greatest  warrior.  "  The 
marble  monument  will  crumble  into  dust;  the  very 
earth  reel  to  and  fro  beneath  the  tread  of  the  coming 
Judge;  all  the  roll  of  historic  records  be  consumed 
in  the  final  conflagration;  but  the  memory  of  the 
moral  hero  will  be  imperishable." 

He  will  live  in  the  grateful  memory  of  those  whom 
he  has  blessed,  whose  tears  he  has  wiped  away,  whose 
wants  he  has  relieved,  whose  gloom  he  has  dispelled, 
and  whose  wandering  feet  he  has  brought  into  the 
paths  of  peace.  There,  yes,  "  there  shall  his  memorial 
be  reared,  where  the  flames  cannot  reach,  and  where 
the  rocking  of  earth's  last  convulsions  shall  not  be 
felt." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

KNOWLEDGE     AND     CURIOSITY.  —  ABSURD    BLUNDERS 
AND   LAUGHABLE   MISTAKES. 


What  is  Knowledge?  —  Ignorance  with  a  Library  —  Wisdom  is  applied 
Knowledge  —  George  Cruikshank  the  Simon  Pure  —  Blunders  in 
Spelling  —  "  Preshus  Sole  "  —  Laughable  Mistakes  —  The  Deacon 
who  thought  he  could  preach  —  Anecdote  of  Robert  Hall  —  Self- 
knowledge  and  Physical  Health  —  Knowing  Others  —  "Brass"  no 
Test  of  Character  —  Misjudging  Others  —  Knowledge  through  His- 
tory —  Goodness  —  Mental  Cultivation  and  Moral  Corruption  —  In- 
quisitiveness  —  "  Funnels  of  Conversation  "  —  How  a  Man  lost  his 
Leg  —  Anecdote  of  John  Randolph  —  Misapplied  Labor  —  Dinner 
and  Duel  —  How  to  collect  a  Crowd  —  Van  Amburg's  Lion  —  Feats 
of  Legerdemain  —  Sir  Charles  Napier  and  the  Indian  Juggler  —  Ig- 
norance and  Superstition  —  Whimsical  Vagaries  —  Senseless  "  Omens  " 
—  Sowing  for  the  Harvest  —  Immortality  revealed  —  De  Quincey 
upon  the  Present  —  Faith  a  Necessity  —  The  Story  of  Poor  Joe.  • 


is  so  constituted  that  in  acquir- 
ing new  truths,  in  the  pursuit  of 
learning  or  the  search  for  knowl- 
edge, he  finds  enjoyment,  a  high 
degree  of  happiness.  Sir  Wm.  Ham- 
ilton declares,  with  philosophic  in- 
sight: "It  is  ever  the  contest  that 
pleases  us,  not  the  victory.  The  hunter 
derives  more  pleasure  in  the  chase  than 
in  the  possession  of  the  game."  Malebranche  de- 
clared: "  If  I  held'  Truth  captive  in  my  hand,  I  should 
open  my  hand  and  let  it  fly,  in  order  that  I  might 
again  pursue  and  capture  it."  Lessing  wrote:  "Did 

202 


WISDOM  AND   KNOWLEDGE.  203 

the  Almighty,  holding  in  his  right  hand  truth,  and 
in  his  left  search  after  truth,  deign  to  tender  me  the 
one  I  might  prefer,  in  all  humility,  and  without  hesi- 
tation, I  should  request  search  after  truth." 

"  Truth,"  says  Von  Muller,  "  is  the  property  of 
God;  the  pursuit  of  truth  is  what  belongs  to  men." 
Jean  Paul  Blchter  says :  "  It  is  not  the  goal,  but  the 
course  which  makes  us  happy." 

What  is  knowledge?  is  an  important  and  yet  diffi- 
cult question  to  answer.  It  is  not  simply  to  gather 
information,  or  to  furnish  ourselves  with  certain  facts. 
It  is  well  to  know  all  we  can  that  is  useful,  and  right 
to  avail  ourselves  of  other  men's  labors  and  investiga- 
tion. God  has  given  to  a  comparative  few  favored 
ones  the  intellect  and  ability  to  discover  truths ;  there- 
fore it  is  lawful  to  gain,  from  the  toils  of  others,  gen- 
eral information  and  knowledge. 

Men  seldom  become  proficient  or  eminent  in  any 
one  branch  of  science  without  personal  investigation 
and  thought.  He  who  would  be  an  astronomer,  a 
natural  historian,  a  geologist,  a  chemist,  must  himself 
make  researches.  Then  again,  men  may  collect  an 
enormous  library  of  books,  and  even  read  them,  with- 
out intelligent  curiosity.  You  may  teach  one  to  re- 
peat their  contents;  still  his  real  knowledge  may  be 
small.  A  parrot  repeats  wise  words,  but  the  bird  is 
not  a  whit  the  wiser.  Wisdom  is  knowledge  made 
our  own  and  properly  applied.  Knowledge  and  wis- 
dom may  have  no  connection.  "  Knowledge  is  proud 
that  it  has  learned  so  much ;  wisdom  is  humble  that 
it  knows  no  more." 

An  old  writer  has  declared:  "  'Tis  the  property  of 
all  true  knowledge  to  enlarge  the  soul  by  filling  it,  to 
enlarge  without  swelling  it,  to  make  it  more  capable 


204  ABSURD    SPELLING. 

and  earnest  to  know,  the  more  it  knows."  He  who 
has  no  ideas  save  those  he  borrows  from  other 
people  may  possess  knowledge,  but  is  not  wise.  It 
is  possible  for  a  man  to  learn,  and  not  reason;  to 
remember,  but  never  think.  Let  no  one  depreciate 
true  knowledge.  Learn  all  you  can,  gain  correct  in- 
formation from  every  source.  For  the  want  of  real 
wisdom  men  sometimes  make  whimsical  blunders. 
Some  years  ago  the  relative  merits  of  George  and 
Robert  Cruikshank  were  contrasted  in  an  English 
review,  and  George  was  spoken  of  as  the  real  Simon 
Pure.  A  German  editor  begins  his  memoir  of  Cruik- 
shank by  informing  his  readers  that  he  is  an  artist 
whose  real  name  is  Simon  Pure;  and  in  the  index 
we  read:  "Pure,  Simon,  —  the  real  name  of  George 
Cruikshank." 

Very  absurd  blunders  are  made  by  the  lack  of  a 
correct  knowledge  of  orthography.  I  think  the 
spelling-matches  of  some  years  since,  that  were  so 
popular  for  a  time,  were  very  useful  as  well  as  enjoy- 
able. How  the  beauty  of  a  sentence  may  be  marred, 
or  the  force  weakened,  by  incorrect  spelling!  A 
young  man  told  me  that  he  was  constantly  receiving 
letters  from  a  friend  who  was  very  anxious  about  his 
spiritual  welfare.  "  But,"  said  he,  "  they  do  me  no 
good,  for  I  am  sure  to  get  to  laughing  over  some 
incorrect  or  absurd  spelling.  He  will  write,  ' I  send 
you  this  letter,  not  to  intrude  my  views  on  you,  but 
in  the  interest  of  your  preshus  sole.' r  I  often  re- 
ceive from  secretaries  of  societies  letters  badly  spelt, 
as  well  as  from  ministers,  and  men  and  women  who 
ought  to  know  better.  One  gentleman  wrote  that  he 
was  sorry  to  trouble  me  with  another  letter,  and  he 
hoped  I  would  not  consider  him  a  "  boar." 


"ABSCESS  FRICASSEED."  205 

Some  persons,  through  ignorance  of  the  meaning 
of  certain  words,  make  laughable  mistakes.  I  have  a 
letter  from  a  gentleman  who  desires  me  to  reply  by 
my  own  hand,  as  he  wishes  to  preserve  the  letter  as  a 
"  momentum !  "  A  lady  writes :  "  My  husband  can- 
not drink  liquor  without  impunity."  We  are  much 
amused  at  the  reported  misuse  of  words  by  the  colored 
people,  —  words  that  they  do  not  understand.  A 
gentleman  told  me  of  once  going  into  a  "  colored 
church  "  very  neatly  frescoed,  except  behind  the  pul- 
pit; here  the  wall  had  been  taken  down  to  form  a 
recess,  and  the  plastering  was  left  in  a  rough  state. 
The  minister  wished  to  say,  "  Brethren,  we  shall  have 
no  more  service  here  till  we  have  raised  by  contribu- 
tion sufficient  money  to  fresco  this  recess;"  but  he 
said,  "  Bredren,  de  gospel  wTill  not  be  dispensed  with 
any  mo'  till  we  have  took  up  a  contradistribution 
enuff  to  have  dis  yer  abscess  fricasseed! " 

A  very  important  branch  of  knowledge  is  self- 
knowledge.  "Know  thyself"  is  a  maxim  too  deep 
for  men  in  general.  Men  may  toil  through  the  in- 
tricacies of  complicated  systems,  and  know  all  about 
the  characters  of  ancient  heroes,  and  know  but  little 
of  their  own.  But  every  man  of  common  capacity 
may  attain  to  this  knowledge,  if  he  will.  He  alone 
may  follow  the  "  autobiography  of  his  heart,"  and  see, 
as  in  a  book,  the  indelible  record  of  his  life.  WFiat 
is  my  chief  weakness?  What  is  my  predominant 
propensity?  What  gives  me  the  highest  delight? 
What  are  my  prejudices  against  persons  and  things? 
What  is  my  temper?  What  are  my  motives?  What 
are  my  views  of  life?  What  is  my  faith?  How  few 
can  answer  these  questions!  yet  every  one  who  sets 
himself  honestly  to  self-examination  can  answer;  but 


206  EPISTLE    OF    THE   APOSTLE. 

men  in  general  do  not  want  to  know.  Some  of  us 
would  be  frightened  if  we  searchingly  asked  ourselves 
these  questions. 

A  man  would  become  an  awful  fact  to  himself  by 
thorough  self-examination.  A  young  man  once  said 
to  me: 

"  I  do  not  think  I  am  a  sinner." 

I  asked  him  if  he  would  be  willing  his  mother  or 
sister  should  know  all  he  had  done,  or  said,  or 
thought,  —  all  his  motives  and  all  his  desires.  After 
a  moment  he  said: 

"]S"o,  indeed,  I  should  not  like  to  have  them  know; 
no,  not  for  the  world." 

"  Then  can  you  dare  to  say,  in  the  presence  of  a  holy 
God,  who  knows  every  thought  of  your  heart,  *  I  do 
not  commit  sin '  ?  " 

A  knowledge  of  his  characteristic  weakness  may 
help  a  man  in  his  conduct  through  life ;  for,  if  guarded 
against,  it  will  become  his  strength.  It  is  this  want 
of  self-knowledge  that  leads  men  often  into  absurd 
positions;  like  the  deacon,  who  thought  he  could 
preach,  and  teased  the  minister  to  let  him  try.  He 
went  through  the  preliminary  exercises  very  comfort- 
ably, then  took  his  text  from  one  of  the  Epistles,  and 
began : 

"  These  words  were  written  by  Paul  the  apostle. 
Tltay  were  written  to  the  church  to  whom  they  were 
addressed.  Paul,  the  apostle  —  was  an  apostle  — 
to  the  Epistle  of  the  Gentiles  —  that  is  —  the  words 
of  the  Epistle  of  the  apostle  Paul  were  words 
—  that  if  you  read,  you  will  be  impressed  with 
their  importance.  I  have  chosen  for  my  text  these 
words  of  Paul  —  who  —  when  —  in  this  apostle  of 
the  Epistles  —  hem  —  hem.  If  anybody  in  this  con- 


SELF-KNOWLEDGE.  207 

gregation  thinks  he  can  preach,  let  him  come  up  here 
and  try  it,  for  I  can't." 

A  young  man  who  had  annoyed  Robert  Hall  for 
permission  to  preach,  afterwards  received  a  severe 
rebuke  upon  asking  Mr.  Hall  what  he  thought  of  his 
sermon.  Wearied  by  his  pertinacity,  Mr.  Hall  at 
length  told  him  that  the  sermon  had  done  him  a  great 
deal  of  good. 

"  Ah,  I  am  delighted  to  think  I  could  have  said 
anything  to  benefit  you.  What  particular  part  af- 
fected you  most  pleasantly?" 

"Oh,  all  of  it." 

"Ah,  indeed;  in  what  way?" 

"  Why,  last  week  I  heard  Dr.  Mason  preach,  and  I 
thought  I  could  never  preach  again;  but  after  hear- 
ing you,  I  think  I  can." 

One  important  advantage  of  self-knowledge  is,  that 
when  a  man  fully  realizes  what  he  is  as  a  man,  his 
wonderful  and  delicate  organization,  the  complicated 
and  yet  harmonious  arrangement  of  his  system,  even 
physiologically  considered,  he  will  more  carefully 
avoid  all  self-abuse  by  the  indulgence  of  appetite  or 
passion.  The  knowledge  that  alcoholic  drink  is  a 
poison,  disorders  digestion,  inflames  the  mucous  mem- 
brane, taints  the  springs  of  life  at  their  source,  im- 
poverishes and  depraves  the  blood,  and  deranges 
almost  every  function  of  his  body,  so  "  fearfully  and 
wonderfully  made,"  should  suffice  to  induce  every 
man  to  abstain ;  but  when  the  realization  comes  that 
he  is  a  man,  with  soul,  mind,  spirit,  that  his  body  may 
be  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  will  he  fill  himself 
with  all  pollution  and  defilement,  and  make  himself  a 
child  of  hell,  who  might  be  an  heir  of  heaven? 

Another  important  branch  of  knowledge  is  to  know 


208  KNOWLEDGE   OF   OTHERS. 

others;  and  this  is  more  difficult,  and  yet  the  desire 
for  it  is  universal.  Some  men  are  so  open  and  trans- 
parent, they  seem  to  carry  their  hearts  in  their  hands ; 
while  others  are  reticent  and  reserved.  How  little  we 
really  know  even  of  the  most  intimate  friend  who 
walks  by  our  side,  and  with  whom  we  are  in  commu- 
nion !  How  often  we  misjudge  men  —  mistake  them ! 
I  know  of  a  man  who  exclaimed,  on  being  told  that  a 
friend  of  his  belonged  to  the  church,  "  Why,  I  have 
known  him  intimately  for  some  years,  but  I  never 
dreamed  he  was  a  Christian."  Again  you  may  say 
of  another,  "  he  has  not  a  vice,"  when  it  is  possible 
his  whole  composition  is  thoroughly  vicious. 

Bring  two  really  honest  men  together,  and  each 
misjudging  the  other  through  difference  in  temper 
and  manner,  may  prevent  a  recognition  of  their  hon- 
esty ;  but  bring  two  men  together,  both  unprincipled, 
perverted,  and  bad,  and  they  will  recognize  each  other 
by  instant  sympathy.  Men  who  pretend  to  be  judges 
of  character  are  often  deceived.  We  should  not 
always  trust  to  appearances.  "  Oh,  I  do  not  like  his 
looks,"  is  an  expression  often  heard  at  first  sight  of  a 
man. 

I  heard  a  gentleman  once  say,  "I  never  trust  a  man 
who  cannot  look  me  right  in  the  eye."  That  is  not  a 
correct  basis  for  judgment  upon  one's  character. 
There  are  some  timid,  diffident  souls,  who  are  easily 
looked  out  of  countenance,  who  cannot  meet  the  stern 
eye  of  a  person  who  is  trying  them  by  their  brass. 
The  very  worst  criminals  can  stare  you  out  of  coun- 
tenance; and  it  is  no  criterion  that  the  man  who  can 
outstare  you  is  the  virtuous,  truthful  man,  and  the 
diffident  person  whose  eyes  droop  before  your  staring 
gaze  is  the  vicious  and  untruthful  one.  I  believe  we 


HIDDEN  NOBLENESS.  209 

may  sometimes  judge  a  man  more  correctly  by  his 
looks  than  by  his  words  or  actions,  for  professions 
may  be  false,  but  the  face  is  generally  true ;  and  yet 
he  may  not  be  able  to  endure  stolidly  an  inquiring 
stare.  Some  faces  are  so  unmistakably  rascally,  it 
needs  no  great  penetration  to  decide  the  character. 
It  might  be  said  of  them,  as  was  said  to  an  individual 
who  complained  "I  don't  feel  myself  to-day,"  "I 
heartily  wish  you  joy,  for  you  must  certainly  be  the 
gainer  by  the  change." 

We  are  apt  to  misjudge  others,  and  distrust  them. 
The  world  is  bad  enough,  but  we  imagine  men  worse 
than  they  are.  Take  an  audience  anywhere,  and  com- 
posed as  you  will,  and  deliver  to  them  a  speech  fall 
of  sordid,  base,  mean  sentiments,  and  you  will  be 
hissed;  but  utter  sentiments  honest,  lofty,  chivalric, 
noble,  and  applause  will  follow.  We  find  that,  how- 
ever men  may  live,  there  is  an  inherent  sympathy 
with  what  is  noble.  Many  there  are  who  walk  through 
life  utterly  unknown  and  unappreciated  by  their  fel- 
lows,— "fine,  sensitive  natures,  that  encase  themselves 
in  a  second  or  outer  life,  unseemly,  having  no 
beauty  that  they  should  be  desired,  and  who  will 
never  be  known  for  what  they  are  by  those  who  look 
only  upon  the  outside.  They  live  on,  unprized,  un- 
cared  for,  until  some  one,  skilled  in  the  knowledge  of 
other  men,  discerns  beneath  the  surface  the  real  na- 
ture of  the  man,  and  sees,  hidden  from  other  eyes, 
God's  glorious  handiwork."  I  believe  there  are  many 
such  walking  side  by  side  with  us  in  the  world,  men 
of  whom  we  are  not  worthy,  whose  real  beauty  and 
grandeur  will  never  be  fully  known  till,  in  eternity, 
God  uncovers  His  own  image,  and  bids  us  see  them 
as  they  are. 


210  OH,  IT  is  GRAND! 

There  is  a  noble  development  of  this  desire  for 
knowledge  when  a  man  possesses  the  power  to  bring 
before  him  in  a  living  panorama  the  grand  lessons  of 
history,  —  mingling  with  the  generations  that  are  gone, 
his  heart  glowing  at  the  "  songs  of  bards  two  thou- 
sand years  old,"  his  nerves  thrilling  at  the  eloquence 
of  men  who  can  never  die,  his  spirit  kindling  with 
"thoughts  that  have  passed  from  soul  to  soul  since 
souls  have  been,"  sympathizing  in  the  struggles  of 
nations  battling  to  be  free,  joining  them  in  their  wel- 
come to  the  light.  He  weeps  at  their  griefs,  rejoices 
when  they  are  glad;  his  heart  is  affected  by  the 
"  mighty  utterances  of  humanity  through  the  ages." 
He  trembles  in  agony  to  behold  nations  losing  their 
way,  and  groping  in  the  darkness  of  despotism.  He 
takes  a  part  in  all  the  progress  of  the  race  as  knowl- 
edge opens  to  him  a  glorious  world,  and  he  "  holds 
converse  with  the  mighty  dead ; "  or,  "  studying  the 
heavens  on  the  shore  of  that  limitless  ocean,  he  sounds 
the  depths  of  the  ether,  gauges  the  visible  universe, 
counts  the  myriads  of  stars  that  people  it,  measures 
their  distances,  unravels  their  most  complicated  move- 
ments, reveals  their  dimensions,  evolves  order  from 
apparent  confusion."  Oh,  it  is  grand!  The  crown 
of  knowledge  is  brighter  than  a  monarch's  diadem; 
and  yet  a  man  with  such  a  glorious  heritage  may  not 
be  one  whit  more  moral,  religious,  or,  in  the  highest 
sense,  more  useful.  Why,  knowledge  itself,  unless 
wisely  directed,  will  even  make  a  bad  man  more  dan- 
gerous. 

Knowledge,  unless  allied  with  goodness  and  wis- 
dom and  embodied  in  upright  character,  is  naught. 
It  is  not  how  much  a  man  may  know;  but  the  end 
and  purpose  for  which  he  obtains  knowledge  is  of  the 


OBJECT   OF   KNOWLEDGE.  211 

greatest  importance.  The  great  object  must  be  to 
improve  character,  to  make  it  better,  more  useful, 
benevolent,  energetic  and  efficient  in  the  attainment 
of  high  purposes.  "  One  may  be  able  to  interpret  the 
eloquence  of  nature,  and  look  out  among  the  stars 
with  a  feeling  of  exultation  at  the  glories  of  the 
heavens;  yet  if  he  scrutinizes  the  universe  with  self 
only  before  his  eyes,  he  lies  buried  in  the  earth  alone 
with  all  his  burning  thoughts.  But  when  in  devout- 
ness  of  spirit  he  gazes  into  the  heavens,  he  himself 
becomes  as  nothing,  as  an  atom  of  dust  on  the  out- 
skirts of  a  glory  immeasurable."  He  perceives  in 
everything  the  Presence  that  fills  immensity,  and 
crowds  it  with  proofs  of  His  power  and  wisdom. 
Then  the  Author  of  this  beauty  and  majesty  becomes 
the  object  of  his  desires,  while  in  his  self-abasement 
he  exclaims,  "  What  is  man,  that  Thou  art  mindful  of 
him !  "  and  learns  to  trust  Him  in  His  faithfulness  to 
all  eternity,  and  finds  that  "the  fear  of  the  Lord  is 
the  beginning  of  wisdom."  "  The  pillar  of  cloud  and 
of  fire  which  led  the  Israelites  to  safety  drew  the 
Egyptians  to  destruction.  One  saw  the  hand  of  God, 
the  other  but  a  phenomenon." 

All  the  worldly  knowledge  a  man  can  acquire  will 
not  make  him  a  good  man,  or  prevent  him  from  fall- 
ing into  grievous  sin.  We  may  find  great  mental 
cultivation  combined  with  moral  corruption. 

Knowledge  is  a  trust,  and  brings  with  it  a  mighty 
responsibility.  Few  more  awful  sights  are  seen  than 
a  once  cultivated  intellect  fallen,  —  a  mind  that  has 
soared  into  the  highest  heaven  of  intellectual  attain- 
ment, that  has  shone  forth  like  the  sun  in  his  glory, 
and  filled  the  world  with  its  blessed  beams,  de- 
graded and  debased,  —  a  mind  that  might  have  been 


212  WHAT'S  THE  NEWS? 

like  a  Samson  among  its  fellows,  shorn  of  its  strength, 
and  only  brought  forth  at  times  to  make  sport  for  the 
Philistines;  like  the  eagle  that  might  have  risen  to 
the  firmament  and  drank  of  the  fountain  of  divine 
light,  fluttering,  broken-winged  and  blinded,  in  the 
dust;  or,  like  the  fallen  angels,  taking  refuge  in  the 
Gadarene  swine  from  the  presence  of  Him  in  whom 
they  ought  to  have  delighted,  —  the  divine  spark  fled 
from  the  human  face,  the  soul  gone,  the  beast  every- 
where grovelling  in  the  thing  that  had  once  been  man. 
Hear  him,  with  voice  thick  and  husky,  a  cracked 
laugh,  talking  rubbish  and  ribaldry,  and  in  the  midst 
of  balderdash  gleaming  now  and  then  a  gorgeous 
sentence  that  drivels  away  again  into  a  cadence 
almost  idiotic.  It  is  one  of  the  most  awful  sights  of 
earth. 

The  desire  to  know  becomes  paltry  when  it  devel- 
ops into  mere  inquisitiveness.  Some  one  has  defined 
inquisitiveness  as  an  "  itch  for  prying  into  other  peo- 
ple's affairs,  to  the  neglect  of  our  own."  The  constant 
and  genuine  food  of  some  minds  is  news.  They  seem 
to  subsist  entirely  on  this  diet.  "  The  news  —  what's 
the  news?  "  Shakespeare  says: 

"  With  open  mouth,  swallowing  a  tailor's  news." 

"Ah,  curiosity!  the  cause  of  all  our  ill; 
And  yet  the  plague  that  most  torments  us  still." 

Some  men  delight  in  asking  questions  about  affairs 
that  are  often  not  worth  knowing;  silence  is  torture 
to  them,  and  by  continual  application  they  become 
masters  of  all  kinds  of  queer  histories;  they  never 
miss  anything  for  the  want  of  asking.  Such  can  tell 
you  of  all  the  weddings  that  are  to  come  off,  and 
when;  of  all  the  engagements  that  are  broken  off, 


FUNNELS  OP   CONVERSATION.  213 

and  for  what  cause;  whose  property  is  mortgaged, 
and  for  how  much;  who  borrows  money,  and  for  what; 
and  who  lends  it,  and  on  what  terms.  They  know  the 
amount  of  everybody's  income ;  can  inform  you  what 
their  neighbors  eat,  drink,  wear,  say,  or  do ;  when  they 
sleep,  walk,  or  ride ;  they  watch  the  post-man  and  the 
butcher ;  know  how  many  letters,  and  how  much  meat 
they  have.  They  are  fully  acquainted  with  all  domes- 
tic squabbles,  and  pride  themselves  on  having  the 
earliest  information.  To  obtain  this,  they  pass  their 
time  keeping  a  watchful  eye  upon  others,  gathering 
up  chance  remarks  or  inadvertent  expressions,  and 
weave  them  into  a  web  of  history,  asking  little  inno- 
cent side  questions,  seemingly  vague  and  unimpor- 
tant, and  then  deducing  conclusions  by  no  means  so 
unimportant,  until  they  become  entangled  and  ensnared 
in  the  cobwebs  of  petty  inquisitiveness. 

Such  persons  become  the  "  funnels  of  conversation, 
taking  in  nothing  for  their  own  use,  but  merely  to 
pass  it  to  another.  They  are  the  channels  through 
which  all  that  is  spoken  of  others  is  conveyed;  simply 
funnels."  How  amusing  it  is  to  see  one  of  these  in- 
"quisitive  persons  with  a  mystery!  How  he  ponders 
it,  lies  in  wait  for  it,  scents  all  around  it,  fixes  on  it 
with  a  bull-dog  tenacity,  follows  it  with  a  persistence 
worthy  of  a  nobler  object.  He  will  concentrate  on  it 
all  the  force  of  his  will,  fancying  himself  on  the  verge 
of  discovery;  and  after  all  this  expenditure  of  time, 
energy,  and  patience,  becomes  possessed  of  a  piece  of 
news  —  fresh  news  —  yes,  fresh ;  but,  like  the  manna, 
"  food  one  day,  stale  and  corrupt  the  next." 

We  have  no  sympathy  for  these  merely  inquisitive 
ones  in  their  disappointments,  but  rather  laugh  at 


214  "IT  WAS   BIT   OFF." 

them.  That  is  a  good  story  of  one  conversing  with 
a  very  quiet  person  who  had  lost  his  leg. 

"  How  did  you  lose  it?     When?     Where?" 

To  all  his  questions,  he  received  evasive  replies, 
until  the  itch  to  know  how  that  leg  was  lost  became 
so  intolerable,  and  his  persistence  was  so  annoying, 
the  gentleman  said: 

"  If  you  will  promise  me  on  your  word  and  honor 
that  you  will  not  ask  another  question  —  not  one  —  I 
will  tell  you  how  I  lost  my  leg." 

"Agreed.     Tell  me." 

"  Not  another  question?  " 

"  Not  one  more ;  only  tell  me  that." 

"  Well,  my  friend,  it  was  bit  off !  " 

"  Bit  off  !     Oh  —  ah  —  hum." 

I  do  not  condemn  utterly  the  asking  of  unimportant 
questions.  Some  men,  for  the  sake  of  showing  po- 
liteness or  attention  to  a  stranger,  may  border  on  the 
inquisitive,  without  being  offensive,  and  may  be  very 
much  hurt  by  a  rude  reception  of  the  questioning. 

John  Randolph  stopped  once  at  a  hotel  where  the 
landlord  tried  very  hard  to  converse  with  him,  but 
without  success.  After  he  had  paid  his  bill,  and  was 
starting,  the  landlord  said: 

"  Which  way  are  you  travelling,  Mr.  Randolph?  " 

"Sir?" 

"  I  asked  which  way  you  was  travelling?  " 

"  Have  I  paid  my  bill?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Do  I  owe  you  anything  more?  " 

"No." 

"  Then  I  am  going  just  where  I  please ;  do  you  un- 
derstand? " 

"Oh,  yes!" 


WHAT  DID   HE    SAY?  215 

But  when  he  had  gone  a  little  way,  he  came  to  a 
fork  in  tne  road,  and  sent  his  servant  to  ask  the  way. 
The  landlord  shouted  out: 

"Mr.  Randolph,  you  don't  owe  me  one  cent;  take 
which  way  you  choose !  " 

There  is  often  labor  expended  in  obtaining  informa- 
tion that  is  not  worth  the  time  and  toil.  At  a  trial,  a 
lady  witness  was  being  questioned,  when  she  stated  a 
fact: 

"  He  took  me  by  the  shoulders,  and  pushed  me  from 
the  room." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  We  do  not  want  to  know  what  he  said,"  exclaimed 
the  opposing  lawyer. 

"  Yes,  we  do,"  said  the  other. 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  I  object  to  the  question ;  it  is  not  admissible ; " 
and  at  it  they  went,  arguing  the  case  till  night.  The 
court  adjourned;  and  next  day  books  were  consulted 
and  arguments  advanced,  the  court  determined  to 
decide  the  point ;  and  after  some  consultation,  and  ex- 
amining precedents,  it  was  declared  the  question  might 
be  admitted. 

"  Then  what  did  he  say?  " 

The  court  was  in  breathless  attention  and  suspense 
while  the  important  question  was  asked,  "  What  did 
he  say  ?  " 

"  Nothing  at  all." 

Curiosity  to  know  little  things  —  unimportant  mat- 
ters —  sometimes  leads  men  into  extravagance.  An 
American  and  a  Frenchman  were  taking  a  meal  to- 
gether. The  American  ate  so  voraciously,  that  the 
Frenchman  said: 
14 


216  "BREAKFAST  OK  DINXAIKE?" 

"  Monsieur,  s'il  vous  plait,  is  dat  your  breakfast  or 
your  dinnaire  vat  you  eat?  " 

No  reply. 

"  Pardon,  monsieur,  vill  you  dell  me,  s'il  vous  plait, 
is  dat  your  breakfast  or  your  dinnaire  vat  you  eat?  " 

"Goto  thunder!" 

"  Why  you  tell  me  go  to  thunder  for  ask  you  one 
civil  question?  Ah,  you  are  not  gentleman!  " 

A  quarrel  ensued;  a  challenge  given  and  accepted; 
a  duel  fought;  the  American  shot  the  Frenchman. 

"  Oh,  I  am  very  much  kill!  Oh,  I  shall  die!  Oh! 
ah!" 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  am  very  sorry.  What  can  I  do 
for  you?  " 

"Oh,  monsieur,  you  can  do  great  deal!  Oh,  ah! 
vill  you  tell  me  vas  dat  your  breakfast  or  your  din- 
naire vat  you  eat?  " 

The  developments  of  the  elements  of  curiosity  are 
almost  illimitable.  Some  people  seem  to  be  possessed 
of  a  desire  almost  amounting  to  a  passion  to  see  rare 
things,  or  indeed  anything  bordering  on  the  impos- 
sible. 

Advertise  that  some  impossible  feat  is  to  be  per- 
formed and  you  will  draw  a  crowd.  In  London  a 
notice  appeared  that  in  the  course  of  an  entertain- 
ment a  man  would  jump  into  a  quart  bottle,  and  sing 
a  comic  song.  The  house  was  crowded,  and  because 
the  feat  was  not  performed,  which  they  knew  was 
impossible,  they  nearly  destroyed  the  theatre.  A 
talking-fish  —  a  mermaid  —  a  monstrosity,  will  draw 
crowds.  A  man  went  every  night  to  see  Van  Am- 
burgh  put  his  head  in  the  lion's  mouth.  When  asked 
why  he  went  every  night,  he  said  he  knew  to  a  moral 
certainty  that  the  lion  would  bite  that  man's  head  off 


DIFFICULT  FEAT!  217 

some  time  before  he  had  done  with  him,  and  he  wanted 
to  see  it!  If  there  were  a  certainty  that  Blondin 
would  fall  from  his  tight  rope,  it  would  draw  a  larger 
crowd  than  otherwise.  Our  curiosity  is  excited  by 
feats  of  legerdemain,  or  prestidigitation,  and  I  must 
confess  I  should  like  to  know  how  some  of  them  are 
performed. 

There  are  many  feats  wonderful  as  well  as  very 
curious.  When  Sir  Charles  Napier  was  in  India, 
a  juggler  visited  camp,  and  among  other  performances 
cut  in  two  with  a  stroke  of  his  sword  a  lemon  placed 
in  the  hand  of  his  assistant.  Napier  doubted  the  feat 
and  held  out  his  hand  for  the  experiment.  The  jug- 
gler looked  attentively  at  the  hand,  and  refused. 
Napier  thought  he  had  found  him  out  and  laughed 
at  him. 

"  Let  me  see  your  other  hand,"  said  the  juggler. 
The  hand  was  submitted,  and  the  man  said: 
"  If  you  will  hold  it  firmly  I  will  perform  the  feat." 
"Why  the  left  hand  and  not  the  right?" 
"Because  the  right  hand  is  hollow  in  the  centre, 
and  there  is  danger  of  cutting  off  the  thumb;  the  left 
is  higher,  and  there  is  less  risk." 

Napier  says  if  he  had  not  laughed  at  him  he  should 
have  refused,  but  putting  the  lemon  on  his  hand  he 
held  out  his  arm.  The  juggler  balanced  himself,  and 
with  a  swift  stroke  cut  the  lemon  in  two  pieces.  Na- 
pier said  he  felt  the  edge  of  the  sword  on  his  hand  as 
if  a  cold  thread  had  been  drawn  across  it. 

The  desire  of  knowing  coming  events  is  one  of  the 
strongest  inclinations  in  the  minds  of  many.  I  think 
it  is  Dr.  Johnson  who  says,  "  The  quality  of  looking 
into  futurity  seems  the  unavoidable  condition  of  a 
being  whose  motions  are  gradual,  and  whose  life  is 


218  WHIMSICAL    VAGARIES. 

progressive."  We  all  are  solicitous  about  events 
which  lie  hidden.  The  mind  is  not  satisfied  with 
objects  immediately  before  it,  but  is  always  breaking 
away  from  the  present,  filled  with  conjectures  about 
things  not  yet  made  real  to  us  by  outward  existence, 
and  longing  to  penetrate  into  futurity.  To  this  cause 
is  owing  the  success  of  astrologers,  fortune-tellers, 
prognosticators,  wise  people,  seers,  spiritual  mediums, 
biologists,  and  all  pretenders  to  a  knowledge  of  future 
events;  the  consulting  of  oracles,  the  noting  of  signs, 
omens,  lucky  days,  and  all  the  various  arts  of  super- 
stition. 

It  is  a  fact  that  the  superstitious  are  generally  igno- 
rant. No  head  is  a  vacuum;  some  are  circumscribed, 
some  are  capacious,  and  the  more  room  is  taken  up 
with  useful  knowledge  the  less  remains  for  credulity. 
"  The  more  a  man  is  acquainted  with  real  things,  the 
more  willing  he  is  to  give  up  the  ghost  of  things;"  yet 
after  all,  there  is  a  vast  amount  of  superstition  among 
us.  The  vagaries  of  some  are  very  whimsical,  and 
would  puzzle  the  antiquary  to  discover  how  they  have 
originated.  What  nonsense  in  examining  the  grounds 
of  a  coffee-cup  to  learn  of  your  future  husband;  put- 
ting bride-cake  under  the  pillow  to  dream  of  him 
(you  do  not  suppose  any  one  believes  such  absurdi- 
ties! I  cannot  tell,  but  why  do  they  do  it?  I  hardly 
suppose  that  any  young  lady  puts  bride-cake  under 
her  pillow  without  a  glimmering  hope  that  she  may  in 
her  dreams  behold  the  coming  man) ;  throwing  the 
apple-paring  over  the  head  that  it  may  fall  in  the 
shape  of  the  first  letter  of  his  name!  How  silly  to 
stir  the  fire  expecting  to  read  in  its  bright  flames  the 
prophecy  that  you  will  have  a  bright  husband ! 

Then  note  the  multitudes  of  omens  really  believed 


VARIETIES   OF   OMENS.  219 

in  by  many !  If  a  hen  crows  it  is  a  sign  of  bad  luck. 
If  a  spark  flies  out  from  the  fire  a  stranger  is  coming. 
If  the  cat  turns  her  tail  to  the  fire  we  are  to  have  a 
hard  frost;  if  she  sneezes,  all  in  the  family  will  have 
colds.  If  you  find  a  pin  with  the  head  turned  to- 
wards you  it  is  a  sign  of  good  luck.  Spilling  salt,  or 
laying  knives  across  each  other  are  ill  omens.  I  have 
known  persons  to  be  really  annoyed  at  either  of  these 
occurrences.  If  the  head  itches  it  is  a  sign  of  rain ;  if 
the  eyebrow  itches  you  will  see  a  stranger ;  if  the  right 
eye  itches,  you  will  cry ;  if  the  left,  you  will  laugh ;  if 
your  nose  itches  you  will  shake  hands  with  a  fool;  if 
it  is  your  right  hand,  you  will  pay  money;  if  your  left, 
you  will  receive  it;  if  it  is  your  back,  butter  will  be 
cheap;  if  your  side,  somebody  is  wishing  for  you;  if 
your  knee,  you  will  kneel  in  a  strange  church ;  and 
if  it  is  your  foot,  you  will  tread  on  strange  ground. 

These  are,  to  be  sure,  vagaries  and  extravagances, 
but  it  is  curiosity  that  leads  to  them,  curiosity  to  know 
the  future.  What  would  you  give  to  know  whether 
your  speculation  will  be  successful,  and  your  marriage 
happy !  Perhaps  if  I  ask  my  reader  the  wish  that  is 
with  you  most  prominent,  you  would  tell  me,  "  To 
know  what  is  to  come ; "  yet  you  cannot.  "  Trace  a 
rainbow  from  the  ocean,  through  the  clouds,  and  back 
again  into  the  sea,  and  find  it  there,  and  then  perhaps 
you  may  be  able  to  foretell  what  will  happen  in  the 
future." 

Our  thoughts  can  have  no  influence  on  the  future, 
but  our  acts  will.  What  folly  to  be  so  absorbed  in 
the  desire  to  know  the  future  as  to  neglect  the  present, 
dreaming  out  life,  or  worrying  it  away  in  vain  conjec- 
ture! Such  men  become  unstable,  always  planning, 
never  executing;  always  commencing,  never  com- 


220  SOWING  AND   REAPING. 

pleting;  always  thinking,  never  acting;  always  pro- 
posing, never  performing;  with  life  before  them,  and 
its  objects,  pleasures,  duties;  but  duties  never  fulfilled, 
pleasures  never  tasted,  objects  never  attained.  In  the 
beginning,  life  seems  a  vast  conception;  at  the  end, 
an  unsatisfactory,  miserable  failure.  Such  men  float 
on  the  sea  of  life;  they  are  boats  without  rudders, 
tossed  by  every  wave  of  passion,  caprice,  or  impulse; 
promising  to  do  everything,  doing  nothing;  within 
sight  of  the  land  of  peace  and  comfort,  but  never 
touching  its  shores. 

We  can  make  our  own  future,  —  we  are  making  it 
every  day.  It  is  a  solemn  fact,  that  "  whatsoever  a 
man  soweth,  that  shall  he  also  reap."  Sow  corn,  reap 
corn;  sow  weeds,  reap  weeds:  sow  the  corruptible, 
reap  the  corruptible;  sow  the  imperishable,  reap  the 
imperishable. 

The  ruin  of  men  is  but  the  thickening  of  the  har- 
vest of  which  they  have  sowed  the  seed.  They  reap 
the  fruit  of  their  own  husbandry;  the  same  grain  the 
sower  scatters,  the  reaper  collects.  If  the  husbandry 
of  wickedness  goes  forward,  there  is  a  harvest  of  an- 
guish to  be  gathered.  We  reach  the  summit  of  all 
that  is  tremendous  and  awful  in  conception  when  we 
consider  a  man  consigned  to  the  tyranny  of  a  passion 
never  to  be  conquered,  and  never  to  be  gratified. 
Milton  puts  these  words  into  the  mouth  of  Satan: 

"  Which  way  I  fly  is  hell ;  myself  am  hell." 

Sow  envy,  malice,  revengefulness,  covetousness, 
drunkenness,  sensuality,  and  we  must  eat  of  the  fruit 
of  our  way,  and  be  filled  with  our  own  devices.  What 
hell  ever  preached  can  surpass  this  ?  !NTo  need  of  fire, 
or  rack  I  Who  can  imagine  the  agony  of  such  a  poor, 


IMMORTALITY   IS   REVEALED.  221 

torn,  tossed  creature,  who  has  endowed  every  unholy 
passion  with  sovereignty,  ploughed  iniquity,  and  sown 
wickedness,  only  to  reap  the  same.  If  we  would 
make  our  future  peaceful,  let  us  sow  righteousness, 
and  reap  life  everlasting.  "  He  that  is  unjust,  let  him 
be  unjust  still;  and  he  that  is  filth}7,  let  him  be  filthy 
still;  and  he  that  is  holy,  let  him  be  holy  still." 

But  to   know  what   shall   be!  —  here  curiositv  is 

tt 

blocked,  and  we  rest  on  faith.  The  future  is  known 
to  God  alone,  and  we  can  know  no  more  than  he  has 
revealed,  and  that  we  receive  by  faith,  —  faith  that 
amounts  to  certainty,  —  because  He  has  said  it.  We 
believe  in  "a  life  which  after  myriads  of  ages  will  be 
still  new,  and  still  beginning."  Immortality  is  re- 
vealed to  us,  and  we  receive  it  as  an  absolute  cer- 
tainty; but  the  character  of  that  unending  existence 
depends  upon  ourselves,  for  God  has  said,  "  He  who 
sows  to  the  flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption; 
and  he  who  sows  to  the  spirit,  shall  of  the  spirit  reap 
life  everlasting."  Our  knowledge  relates  chiefly  to 
the  present,  and  what  is  that?  We  talk  of  the  flight 
of  time,  but  how  limited  is  the  space  in  which  we  can 
say  u  Now "  ?  We  do  not  comprehend  how  small 
that  space  is. 

De  Quincey,  in  one  of  his  essays,  presents  this 
thought  very  vividly:  "  How  narrow,  how  incalculably 
narrow,  is  the  true  and  actual  present!  Of  that  time 
which  we  call  the  present,  how  small  a  part  but  be- 
longs either  to  a  past  which  has  fled,  or  to  a  future 
which  is  still  on  the  wing.  It  has  perished,  or  it  is 
not  born.  It  was,  or  it  is  not.  The  true  and  very 
present  in  which  only  we  live  and  enjoy,  offers  less 
capacity  for  our  footing  than  the  slenderest  film  that 
ever  spider  twisted  from  her  womb.  All  is  finite  in 


222  POOH  JOE. 

the  present,  and  even  that  finite  is  infinite  in  its  ve- 
locity of  flight  towards  death." 

I  quote  the  language  of  another  writer :  "  All  our 
ideas  concerning  a  futurity  of  living,  thinking,  acting, 
are  phantoms  seen  in  the  dark  without  revelation. 
There  is  nothing  possible  in  the  trackless  future,  but 
by  faith.  Faith  is  a  necessity.  By  faith,  we  learn  all 
things  pertaining  to  the  ways  of  the  Almighty.  By 
knowledge,  we  learn  His  works;  by  faith,  we  learn 
His  ways  in  the  life  that  now  is,  and  that  which  is  to 
come.  Is  not  faith  of  more  importance  than  knowl- 
edge? A  man  may  know  all  mysteries,  may  under- 
stand all  languages,  may  weigh  the  stars,  may  be 
profound  in  all  sciences,  filled  with  all  the  knowledge 
of  the  schools,  yet  as  he  stands  on  the  confines  of  his 
life,  with  the  consciousness  of  immortality,  if  he  sees 
no  star  of  hope  to  guide  him,  all  is  uncertainty  and 
doubt.  He  stretches  out  his  hand  and  grasps  the 
darkness,  his  soul  fluttering  in  the  weakened  body 
that  fain  would  hold  it,  passes  away  into  an  eternity 
of  which  he  knows  nothing,  and  dreads  everything. 
How  poor  he  is !  how  miserably  poor !  " 

Another,  whose  faith  in  God  is  the  governing  and 
actuating  power  of  his  whole  being,  knowing  nothing 
of  the  learning  of  the  schools,  may  talk  but  stammer- 
ingly  one  language,  yet  standing  on  the  verge  of 
eternity  can  say,  "  I  know  whom  I  have  believed.  I 
shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake  in  thy  likeness."  How 
incomparably  rich  is  he !  " 

Poor  Joe  could  neither  read  nor  write;  he  under- 
stood no  doctrine  but  the  one  simple  truth  of  the 
Gospel.  Lying  on  his  hard  bed,  he  could  say,  "  Joe 
only  knows  one  thing:  Jesus  Christ  came  to  save 
sinners.  Joe  is  a  sinner.  Jesus  Christ  came  to  save 


"I  AM  JOE."  223 

him.  Joe  believe  it,  that's  enough.  Joe  love  Jesus 
Christ." 

Some  years  ago,  in  Allen  Street  Church,  New  York, 
I  related  the  little  history  of  Joe,  as  I  heard  my  mother 
tell  it;  and  a  man,  rather  shabby,  and  with  the  evi- 
dent signs  of  dissipation,  stood  up  in  the  audience, 
and  cried  out:  "I  am  Joe,  and  I  am  a  sinner;  and  if 
Jesus  Christ  came  to  save  sinners,  I  want  him  to  save 
me." 

Many  Christian  people  that  evening  took  him  by 
the  hand,  and  encouraged  him.  A  long  time  after 
that,  a  man  and  his  wife  came  to  me.  They  were  well 
dressed,  and  respectable.  The  man  said,  "  Have  you 
forgotten  me?  I'm  Joe.  Don't  you  remember,  at 
Allen  Street,  Joe  stood  up,  and  said  he  was  a  sinner? 
Well,  I  am  Joe,  and  this  is  my  wife,  and  we  are  try- 
ing to  serve  Jesus  Christ.  I  was  a  swearer  and  a 
drunkard,  but  now  I  am  sober,  and  I  love  Jesus 
Christ;  and  I  and  my  wife  wanted  to  speak  to  you, 
and  let  you  know  that  Joe  meant  what  he  said  that 
night  in  Allen  Street  Church." 

I  occasionally  hear  of  Joe  and  his  wife  as  a  couple 
united  in  one  purpose  to  serve  the  Lord  Christ,  and 
who  have  persuaded  others  to  walk  in  the  same 
path. 

Then  give  me  faith,  the  ground  of  a  settled  hope, 
without  knowledge,  rather  than  all  the  learning  of 
earth  without  faith;  so  that  when  the  shadows  of 
death  fall  on  my  eyelids,  I  may  compose  myself  to 
sleep  with  the  certainty  of  a  coming  morning,  and  a 
glory  above  the  clouds,  as  undoubtedly  as  I  close  my 
weary  eyes  to  sleep  to-night  with  the  assurance  of  a 
sunrise  to-morrow. 

Then  let  me  say  especially  to  the  young,  in  the 


224  WISDOM  AND   UNDERSTANDING. 

words  of  the  wise  man,  "  With  all  thy  getting,  get 
understanding.  Wisdom  is  the  principal  thing;  there- 
fore, get  wisdom;  exalt  her,  and  she  shall  promote 
thee;  she  shall  bring  thee  to  honor;  she  shall  give  to 
thine  head  an  ornament  of  grace;  a  crown  of  glory 
shall  she  be  to  thee."  Job  tells  us  in  his  parable :  "  It 
cannot  be  gotten  with  gold;  the  topaz  of  Ethiopia 
shall  not  equal  it;  the  price  of  it  is  above  rubies;  it 
shall  not  be  valued  with  the  gold  of  Ophir,  with  the 
precious  onyx,  or  the  sapphire.  Whence,  then,  is  wis- 
dom? God  understandeth  the  way  thereof.  He  know- 
eth  the  place  thereof.  When  He  made  a  decree  for 
the  rain,  and  a  way  for  the  lightning  of  the  thunder, 
then  did  He  see  it,  and  declare  it.  He  prepared  it,  and 
stretched  it  out."  "And  unto  man  He  said,  Behold  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom;  and  to  depart  from 
evil,  is  understanding." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

COMEDIES.  —  THE   HUMOROUS   SIDE   OF   LIFE. 

The  Art  of  Putting  Things  —  Illustrative  Anecdotes  —  Macklin  at  the 
Theatre  —  The  Smoker  on  a  Coach  —  Mr.  Parker's  Preaching  —  Man- 
aging Others —  The  Scolding  Schoolmaster  —  The  Inhuman  Teacher 
—  Appeals  to  Honor  better  than  Brutality  —  The  Model  Principal  — 
The  College  President's  Lecture  on  Spontaneous  Combustion — The 
College  President  guarding  his  New  Roost  —  The  Midnight  Ride  — 
Acknowledgment  of  Errors  —  Bonnie  Christie—  Matter-of-fact  Peo- 
ple—  "Six-penny  Caliker"  —  No  Devils  ever  cast  out  of  a  Man  — 
The  Quaker's  Answer  —  The  Physician  and  the  Stone  Mason  —  A 
Digression,  but  not  an  Argument  —  Henderson  the  Actor  —  Differ- 
ence between  Settling  down  and  Settling  up  —  Wit  of  Dr.  Snmuel 
Cox  —  The  Conceited  Count  —  Practical  Jokes  —  My  Sacramento  Ac- 
quaintance. 

T'S  not  so  much  what  he  says,  but  how 
he  says  it."  "  It's  not  so  much  what  he 
does,  but  how  he  does  it,"  are  remarks 
constantly  heard.  Some  one  has  written 
an  essay  on  the  "  Art  of  Putting  Things." 
How  many  quarrels  might  be  avoided,  if 
we  could  learn  the  art  of  rebuking  with 
courtesy  and  tact!  Macklin,  when  a  man 
stood  before  him  and  his  friend  at  the 
theatre,  completely  shutting  out  all  view  of  the  stage, 
might  have  asked  him  to  sit  down,  or  with  his  cane 
struck  him  in  the  back,  and  probably  given  offence; 
but  he  simply  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir;  but  when 
you  see  or  hear  anything  particularly  interesting  on 

225 


226  THE   PIPE   PUT   OUT. 

the  stage,  will  you  please  let  us  know,  as  we  are  en- 
tirely dependent  on  your  kindness."  That  was  suffi- 
cient. "With  a  smile,  and  an  apology  that  could  hardly 
have  been  extracted  by  rudeness,  the  gentleman  took 
his  seat. 

A  man  seated  between  two  gentlemen  on  the  out- 
side of  a  coach,  was  smoking  incessantly,  when  one 
of  the  gentlemen,  nearly  strangled,  said,  "  Please,  sir, 
would  you  have  any  objection  to  smoke  in  that  other 
gentleman's  face  a  little  while?"  The  pipe  was  im- 
mediately, and  with  perfect  good-humor,  put  out. 

I  was  once  visiting  a  lady,  who  told  me  that  her 
son  came  home  from  church  one  Sunday,  and  said: 

"Mother, I  do  not  like  Mr.  Parker's  preaching;  and 
I  do  not  intend  to  hear  him  any  more." 

To  all  her  persuasions,  —  for  she  feared  if  he  re- 
frained to  go  with  her  to  church,  he  would  go  nowhere 
else,  —  his  reply  was,  "  I  do  not  like  his  preaching; 
he  does  me  no  good;  and  I  shall  go  somewhere 
else." 

Soon  he  dropped  into  the  habit  of  staying  away 
from  church  a  whole  or  half  a  day;  troubling  her, 
because  of  the  irregularity  of  his  church  attendance. 
One  day,  Edward  met  Mr.  Parker  in  the  street. 

"How  do  you  do,  Ed?" 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Parker?^' 

"Been  out  of  town  lately,  Ed?" 

"  ]S"o,  I've  not  been  away." 

"Ah!  I've  not  seen  you  in  church  lately." 

"  Why,  do  you  know  whether  I  come  to  church  or 
not?" 

"Oh,  yes;  I  have  missed  you  for  some  Sundays 
past.  Do  you  not  go  to  church  at  all?" 

"  Not  much." 


"PARKEK  IS  A  BRICK."  227 

"Why?" 

"  Well,  Mr.  Parker,  I  do  not  like  your  preaching." 

"  No  more  do  I,  Ed.  You  cannot  have  a  poorer 
opinion  than  I  have  of  my  preaching;  and  if  you  can 
tell  me  how  I  can  preach  better,  I  shall  be  obliged  to 
you.  I  do  not  blame  you  for  not  liking  my  preach- 
ing; I  wish  you  could  help  me  to  preach  better.  I  do 
not  ask  you  to  hear  me ;  but  do  not  stay  away  from 
church  because  you  do  not  like  me.  Go  and  hear 

Mr. ,  he's  a  good  preacher;  or  Dr. ,  he's  a 

much  better  preacher  than  I  am.  Go  and  hear  some- 
body; do  not  leave  the  church  altogether.  Good-bye, 
Ed,  my  dear  fellow." 

He  went  home,  and  his  first  words  upon  coming 
into  the  house  were: 

"  Mother,  Mr.  Parker  is  a  brick,  and  I'll  go  and 
hear  him,  like  or  no  like,  just  as  long  as  he  and  I  stay 
in  the  city."  And  from  that  time  he  has  been  a 
regular  attendant,  and  he  and  Mr.  Parker  are  fast 
friends. 

How  few  possess  the  faculty  of  managing  others! 
How  rare  is  the  ability  of  ruling  or  controlling  others ! 
Yet  some  possess  that  ability  in  a  large  degree.  There 
have  been  teachers  who,  by  too  much  governmental 
discipline,  have  embittered  their  scholars  for  life; 
while  others,  who  have  been  the  strictest  disciplina- 
rians, have  gained  the  love  and  respect  of  all  whom 
they  have  taught.  I  have  but  little  experience  of 
schools,  but  remember  one  which  I  attended  whose 
master  —  one  of  those  uncertain  rnen  of  whom  you 
are  never  sure  —  ruled  according  to  his  feelings.  If 
his  breakfast  disagreed  with  him,  woe  to  the  boys ! 
If  his  wife  had  been  cross,  and  perchance  had  scolded 
him,  —  and  that  was  not  seldom,  for  he  was  the  meek- 


228  HOW  WE   HATED   HIM  I 

est  of  the  meek  at  home,  —  then  he  would  emphasize 
his  troubles  upon  the  boys.  How  we  suffered  when 
he  had  dyspepsia!  Scarcely  any  in  the  school  but 
hated  him,  and  yet  he  was  successful  in  teaching, 
after  a  fashion.  His  was  one  of  those  independent 
schools  of  fifty  years  ago  in  England,  when  the  master 
was  supported  solely  by  the  charge  to  each  scholar. 

"  Full  well  the  busy  whisper  circling  round 
Conveyed  the  dismal  tidings  when  he  frowned," 

would  apply  most  emphatically  to  nearly  every  morn- 
ing; 

"  Full  well  they  laughed  with  counterfeited  glee 
At  all  Ins  jokes,  for  many  a  joke  had  he," 

would  not  apply  at  all.  When  he  came  into  the 
school-room,  every  boy's  head  was  bent  to  the  desk 
after  one  glance  at  the  dial  of  his  face,  which  told  the 
state  of  the  thermometer.  Suddenly  a  ruler  would 
whirl  through  the  air,  aimed  at  some  luckless  boy; 
perhaps  it  hit  him. 

"  Robert,  bring  that  ruler  to  me  1 " 

The  boy  walked  up  to  the  desk. 

"Hold  out  your  hand!  " 

And  the  palm  soon  tingled  and  was  stung  with 
half  a  dozen  blows,  as  if  fire  had  touched  it.  What 
for?  Oh,  that  was  a  small  matter:  perhaps  the  boy's 
head  was  not  posed  to  suit  the  master.  I  have  stood 
on  a  bench  with  a  heavy  book  in  my  hand,  compelled 
to  hold  it  at  arm's  length  till  the  sweat  of  pain  would 
stand  in  beads  on  my  forehead,  and  every  nerve,  from 
the  finger-tips  to  the  hips  and  down  to  the  very  toes, 
was  throbbing  with  pain ;  and  that  for  a  trifling  mis- 
demeanor. Oh,  how  we  hated  him!  There  were 
such  masters  years  ago;  thank  God,  the  race  is  ex- 
tinguished ! 


"WHO   MADE   THAT   NOISE?"  229 

A  gentleman  said  to  me,  "  I  have  the  most  ago- 
nizing pain  in  my  head  almost  constantly.  I  have 
many  a  sleepless  night  tossing  with  pain.  What  is 
the  cause?  Schoolmaster.  Yes,  my  schoolmaster 
would  strike  me  on  the  head  with  his  hand,  and  some- 
times with  a  heavy  book,  and  the  result  is  these  ter- 
rible headaches;  and  sometimes,  when  I  am  suffering 
so  keenly,  I  almost  curse  the  man  that  by  his  brutality 
has  caused  me  so  much  suffering." 

I  do  not  believe  in  coddling  boys,  or  remitting  all 
punishment,  nor  in  relaxing  the  strict  government; 
but  I  believe  boys  can  be  governed  by  appeals  to  their 
honor  rather  than  by  brutality;  and  if  punishment  is 
needed,  let  the  infliction  be  in  proportion  to  the 
offence. 

I  was  struck  with  the  methods  pursued  in  a  large 
school,  one  of  the  best,  for  boys,  in  a  neighboring 
State.  The  principal  entertained  me  for  a  few  days. 
There  was  no  flogging,  no  spying,  no  talebearing. 
There  was  subordination  and  an  easy  compliance 
with  rules.  Every  delinquent  reported  himself.  It 
needed  some  patience  and  skill  and  persistence  to 
bring  the  scholars  to  this  point.  For  instance,  if  the 
principal  was  disturbed  by  a  great  noise  in  one  of 
the  dormitories  occupied  by  a  dozen  or  more  boys,  he 
would  go  up  to  the  room  at  once,  and  probably  all 
would  be  still,  every  boy  in  his  bed,  some  feigning 
sleep. 

"  Who  made  that  noise?  " 

No  reply. 

"I  ask,  who  made  that  noise?" 

No  reply. 

The  question  was  slowly  repeated. 

No  answer. 


230  HAYSTACK  BURNT. 

"  Young  gentlemen,  please  dress  yourselves,  and 
come  down  to  the  recitation-room." 

When  they  were  gathered  there,  he  would  address 
them,  telling  them  how  mean  it  was  that  the  guilty 
should  permit  the  innocent  to  be  punished  for  their 
fault;  and  dilating  on  the  cowardice  that  would  com- 
mit a  fault  and  permit  others  to  suffer  the  conse- 
quences, he  would  ask  the  young  gentleman  who 
originated  the  noise,  or  if  there  were  more  than  one, 
to  acknowledge  it,  and  receive  the  punishment;  that 
he  should  consider  the  whole  class  in  disgrace  until 
the  culprit  or  culprits  confessed.  This  experiment 
was  generally  successful,  and  he  had  but  very  little 
difficulty  in  ascertaining  the  cause  of  any  breach  of 
the  rules. 

The  president  of  a  college,  whom  I  knew  as  a  dear 
friend  for  many  years,  possessed  a  wonderful  faculty 
for  governing  and  detecting  a  culprit.  On  one  occa- 
sion a  good-sized  haystack  was  burnt,  evidently  set 
on  fire.  Who  did  it?  That  was  a  mystery.  Some 
one  connected  with  the  college,  no  doubt;  but  who? 
No  remarks  were  made  about  it  except  those  that 
were  perfectly  natural.  A  week  or  more  after,  the 
president  announced  that  he  would  give  an  extra 
lecture  on  chemistry  to  the  whole  college  of  students. 
In  the  course  of  his  lecture,  the  hall  being  crowded, 
he  spoke  of  spontaneous  combustion,  and  proceeded 
to  explain  scientifically  the  causes  of  spontaneous 
combustion;  and  with  a  glance  of  his  keen  eye  flash- 
ing in  every  corner  of  the  room,  he  alluded  to  the 
haystack  as  a  very  good  instance  of  the  efiect  of  such 
a  combination  as  he  had  described.  In  that  one 
glance  he  detected  the  unconscious  half-smile  on  one, 
and  the  almost  imperceptible  wink  on  another,  and 


"i  GUESS  THAT'LL  DO."  231 

the  involuntary  change  of  countenance,  or  the  fur- 
tive look  on  a  third;  and  quietly  finishing  his  lect- 
ure, he  requested  certain  gentlemen  to  come  to  him 
in  his  study;  to  find,  on  asking  them  on  their  honor, 
that  his  ingenious  plan,  aided  by  his  keen  perception, 
had  brought  him  to  the  correct  conclusions. 

Another  story  is  told  of  a  college  president  who 
suspected  that  some  of  the  boys  had  planned  to  rob 
his  hen-roost.  Near  the  inclosure  were  two  large 
apple-trees  at  the  back  of  the  house;  so  he  quietly 
went  out  and  waited  till  they  came.  Of  the  two,  one 
ascended  the  tree,  the  other  remained  below.  When 
they  were  ready  to  commence  operations,  the  doctor 
made  a  slight  noise,  and  the  one  below  started  off 
with  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  The  one  in  the 
tree  asked  in  a  whisper: 

"What's  the  matter?" 

To  which  the  doctor  replied,  also  in  a  whisper: 

"All's  right." 

"  Here,  catch  hold,"  said  the  upper  one,  handing 
down  a  rooster.  "  Here's  old  Prex." 

And,  handing  down  a  hen: 

"  Here's  Mrs.  Prex." 

"And  here,"  handing  down  a  chicken,  "  here's  Miss 
Prex.  I  guess  that  '11  do." 

The  doctor  quietly  got  over  the  fence  with  the 
fowls,  and  went  to  his  house. 

The  poor  robber  of  the  hen-roost  descended  to  find 
his  companion  gone.  What  they  said  when  they  met 
will  probably  never  be  known;  but  in  the  morning 
the  two  young  gentlemen  received  a  polite  invitation 
to  dine  with  the  president,  —  an  honor  they  could  not 
very  well  decline.  Possibly  they  were  embarrassed 
when,  seated  at  the  table,  they  saw  three  fowls  roasted 
15 


232  A  NIGHT   RIDE. 

for  the  dinner;  and  we  can  imagine  their  sensations 
when  the  doctor  said: 

"  Now,  young  gentlemen,  will  you  have  a  piece  of 
1  old  Prex,  Mrs.  Prex,  or  Miss  Prex '?  " 

How  the  dinner  passed  off,  and  how  the  young 
delinquents  got  off,  deponent  sayeth  not.  On  that 
theme  history  is  dumb;  but  nothing  more  was  heard 
of  the  escapade,  the  doctor  thinking  that  the  morti- 
fication was  sufficient  punishment. 

A  very  good  story  is  told  of  the  head  of  one  of 
our  celebrated  institutions,  who  was  the  possessor  of 
a  very  clumsy,  old-fashioned  vehicle,  to  which  he  was 
very  partial,  and  which  he  constantly  used  in  riding 
through  the  streets  of  the  town  to  the  disgust  of  most 
of  the  students.  A  plan  was  formed  among  some  of 
the  boys  that  on  a  certain  night  they  would  remove 
this  offensive  vehicle  from  the  coach-house  to  a  wood 
about  half  a  mile  from  the  college.  Their  intention 
was  to  run  the  carriage  into  the  thickest  of  the  woods 
and  underbrush,  and  leave  it  there.  But  the  princi- 
pal by  some  means  learned  or  suspected  their  inten- 
tion. Accordingly,  in  the  evening,  he  quietly  went 
out  to  the  coach-house,  and,  well  wrapped  up,  crouched 
in  a  corner  of  the  carriage,  and  waited.  Soon  the 
boys  came,  very  stealthily,  and,  without  looking  into 
the  vehicle,  began  their  operations  very  quietly;  and 
in  whispers,  and  with  many  a  "  hush,"  and  "  take 
care,"  and  "look  out,"  they  succeeded  in  getting  it 
out  of  the  house  and  yard,  and  into  the  road. 

There  they  were  all  right,  but  they  were  puzzled  to 
find  the  thing  so  heavy  to  haul ;  and  amid  grumblings 
and  puffings  and  pantings,  varied  occasionally  with 
a  strong  expression  of  disgust,  they  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  woods,  the  principal  listening  to  then: 


A   SHARP   LESSOR.  233 

complaints  and  rather  enjoying  the  situation.  Hav- 
ing with  some  difficulty  backed  the  carriage  into  the 
brush,  they  began  to  congratulate  each  other  on  the 
success  of  their  manoeuvre.  The  old  gentleman,  let- 
ting down  the  window,  to  their  utter  surprise  and 
alarm,  very  quietly  said: 

"  ]^ow,  young  gentlemen,  just  take  me  back  very 
carefully,  if  you  please." 

It  was  rather  a  sharp  lesson,  but  better  than  to  dis- 
grace a  set  of  young  men  for  a  comparatively  harm- 
less joke. 

Sometimes  it  is  very  hard  to  learn  how  to  acknowl- 
edge an  error.  There  are  those  who  cannot  under- 
stand that  there  is  something  manly  and  worthy  of 
their  dignity  in  acknowledging  a  mistake,  or  owning 
their  ignorance. 

When  a  lady  asked  Dr.  Johnson  how  he  came  to 
commit  a  palpable  blunder  in  his  dictionary,  he  replied, 
"  Ignorance,  pure  ignorance." 

For  a  schoolmaster,  or  one  in  authority,  it  seems 
specially  hard  to  confess  to  an  error,  and  yet  such 
a  confession  often  raises  him  in  the  estimation  of  his 
subordinates,  and  binds  him  to  them  with  stronger 
cords  of  affection  and  respect.  I  once  read  some- 
where a  very  interesting  narrative  of  such  an  experi- 
ence by  school  and  schoolmaster,  illustrating  this  and 
also  the  beauty  and  nobleness  of  character  and  truth. 

Two  boys  were  4n  a  schoolroom  together,  when 
some  fireworks  were  suddenly  exploded.  When  the 
master  questioned  them,  one  boy  at  once  denied  it; 
the  other,  Bonnie  Christie,  would  neither  admit,  nor 
deny  it,  and  without  further  questioning  he  was  se- 
verely flogged.  When  the  boys  were  alone  again,  he 
who  had  escaped,  said: 


234  BONNIE    CHRISTIE. 

"Bonnie,  why  did  you  not  deny  it?" 

"  Because  there  were  only  we  two  in  the  room,  and 
one  of  us  must  have  lied." 

"  Then  why  not  say  I  did  it?  " 

"  Because  you  said  you  did  not,  and  I  pity  a  liar, 
and  will  never  tell  of  him." 

When  school  resumed,  the  boy  marched  up  to  the 
master's  desk,  and  said: 

"'Please,  sir,  I  can't  bear  to  be  a  liar;  I  let  off  the 
crackers,"  and  then  burst  into  tears. 

After  a  moment's  pause  the  master,  hand  in  hand 
with  the  culprit,  before  the  whole  school,  walked  down 
to  where  young  Christie  sat. 

"  Bonnie  Christie,  lad,"  said  the  master,  "  he  and  I 
have  come  to  beg  your  pardon;  we  were  both  to 
blame." 

The  school  was  so  hushed  they  might  have  heard 
Bonnie's  big-boy  tear-drops  fall  on  his  copy-book,  as 
looking  up  with  the  tears  on  his  cheek,  —  such  tears 
as  the  severest  flogging  would  never  have  forced 
from  his  eyes,  he  gently  said,  "  Master,  forever,"  and 
the  glorious  shout  of  the  scholars  made  the  rafters 
ring  as  the  master's  eyes  grew  dim  with  tears. 

A  good-tempered  retort  often  accomplishes  more 
than  a  long  argument,  in  defeating  an  adversary.  It 
requires  tact  and  self-possession,  with  a  quick  appre- 
hension to  hold  your  own  in  an  encounter  of  wit;  but 
on  the  dull  and  literal  it  is  almost  impossible  to  make 
any  impression.  In  such  a  case  the  wit  must  be 
heavy  and  blunt,  or  an  explanation  would  be  required 
of  yon.  I  have  met  the  obtuse  and  literal,  and  been 
amused  at  their  utter  inability  to  understand  a  joke; 
they  take  you  as  you  say,  not  as  you  mean.  Narrate 
to  them  some  extravagant  American  story  or  jest; 


"SIXTEN3STY   CALIKER."  235 

tell  them  of  a  man  running  round  in  a  circle  so  fast 
that  he  could  see  his  own  back,  and  they  will  begin  to 
argue  the  point  and  discuss  the  possibility,  or  impos- 
sibility, of  such  an  operation. 

We  often  find  among  the  common  people  in  this 
country,  especially  in  New  England,  a  class  with 
whom  it  would  be  dangerous  to  perpetrate  a  practical 
joke;  and  woe  betide  if  they  suspect  you  are  fooling 
them  or  dealing  by  them  unfairly. 

A  lady  told  me  that  her  brother,  who  kept  a  dry- 
goods  store,  was  rather  glib  in  his  talk,  and  inclined 
to  be  somewhat  flippant  to  his  customers.  An  old 
woman  came  to  his  store  and  said: 

"  I  want  to  get  some  sixpenny  caliker." 

"  Sixpenny,  marm !  Better  not  take  a  sixpenny 
calico;  take  a  ninepenny.  Sixpenny  calico  won't 
wash;  a  ninepenny  calico  will.  A  sixpenny  calico  is 
sleazy ;  a  ninepenny  calico  is  firm.  Take  a  ninepenny 
calico,  and  you'll  be  glad  you  didn't  take  a  sixpenny; 
take  a  sixpenny,  and  you'll  be  sorry  you  didn't  take  a 
ninepenny.  Let  me  measure  you  oif  the  ninepenny; 
it  is  heavier,  will  last  longer,  is  cheaper  in  the  end. 
Don't  take  a  sixpenny,  when  only  threepence  more 
will  give  you  a  dress  worth  double.  What  do  you 
say,  —  a  ninepenny?  " 

The  old  woman  stood  perfectly  still  till  he  paused, 
and  then  said: 

"A  sixpenny  caliker  is  good  enough  for  a  poor 
worm  like  me." 

"  Worm !  worm,  marm !  don't  call  yourself  a  worm. 
I  don't  like  to  hear  people  call  themselves  worms. 
We  are  not  worms ;  we  are  men  and  women.  Worms 
indeed!  I'm  not  a  worm;  you're  not  a  wrorm.  I'll  tell 


236  "THEY'VE  GOT  'EM  YET." 

you  what  we  are  made  of:  water,  gas,  lime  ;  "  and  he 
went  on  with  other  items. 

The  old  woman  simply  said: 

"Law!  is  that  so?  Then  I  reckon  the  biggest 
part  of  you  is  gas.  Now  I'll  take  ten  yards  of  six- 
penny caliker." 

A  bantering  acquaintance  of  the  other  sex  remarked 
to  a  woman: 

"  I  never  heard  of  seven  devils  being  cast  out  of  a 


,"  was  the  reply;  "  they've  got  'em  yet." 

A  Quaker,  in  giving  evidence  before  a  Board  of 
Excise  in  England,  and  being  rudely  treated,  was 
rather  pompously  asked: 

"  Do  you  know  what  we  sit  here  for?" 

"  Yes  :  one  of  thee  for  a  thousand  pounds  a  year, 
and  the  other  for  seventeen  hundred." 

A  physician  passing  a  stonemason's  shop,  bawled 
out: 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  D.  Hard  at  work,  I  see. 
You  finish  your  gravestones  as  far  as  'In  the  memory 
of,'  and  then  wait,  I  suppose,  to  see  who  wants  a 
monument  next?  " 

"Waal,  yes,"  replied  the  old  man;  "unless  some- 
body's sick,  and  you're  doctoring  him,  and  then  I 
keep  right  on." 

An  architect  was  asked  in  a  slighting  tone: 

"You  are  a  builder,  are  you  not?" 

"  No,  sir;  I  am  an  architect." 

"Ah  well,  they  are  much  the  same,  I  believe." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  ;  they  are  totally  different." 

"  Perhaps  you  can  state  wherein  this  great  differ- 
ence consists." 

"Yes,  sir.    An  architect  is  the  mind;  the  builder 


"TICKET,  PLEASE."  237 

is  the  machine;  the  architect  is  the  power  that  puts 
the  machine  together  and  sets  it  going." 

"  Very  well ;  perhaps  you  can  inform  me  wrho  was 
architect  to  the  tower  of  Babel?  " 

"  There  was  no  architect,  sir,  and  hence  the  con- 
fusion." 

These  are  good;  but  rather  the  neatest  I  ever  read 
was  one  by  Henderson,  the  actor,  who  was  seldom 
known  to  be  in  a  passion.  When  at  Oxford  lie  was 
once  debating  with  a  fellow-student,  who,  not  keeping 
his  temper,  threw  a  glass  of  wine  in  the  actor's  face. 
Mr.  Henderson  took  out  his  handkerchief,  wiped  his 
face,  and  coolly  said,  "  That,  sir,  is  a  digression ;  now 
for  the  argument." 

A  man  whose  business  transactions  had  been  rather 
suspicious,  and  who  had  passed  through  bankruptcy 
twice,  was  boasting: 

"  I  left  business,  and  settled  down  with  a  comfort- 
able fortune,"  when  a  listener  said: 

"  If  you  had  settled  up,  you  wouldn't  have  had  a 
cent." 

A  very  self-important  young  man  came  to  the  turn- 
stile at  the  railway  station. 

"  Ticket,  please,"  said  the  porter. 

"Ah,  my  face  is  my  ticket,"  was  the  reply. 

"All  right,"  said  the  porter;  "my  orders  are  to 
punch  every  ticket  before  I  let  it  pass." 

I  once  heard  a  very  neat  rebuke  from  Rev.  Dr. 
Samuel  Cox  to  a  company  of  men,  who  understood 
it  fully,  and  on  whom  anything  keen  or  witty  would 
have  been  lost.  I  was  travelling  on  the  Erie  Rail- 
way. At  Elmira  three  colored  persons,  mulattoes, 
took  passage.  They  were  very  neat,  genteel,  quite 
good-looking,  and  well-behaved,  —  two  women  and  a 


238  "WELL  DONE,  MADAM." 

man,  who  quietly  took  their  seats  near  the  door. 
Just  before  me  sat  four  men,  with  their  seat  turned 
over.  They  were  filthy  and  offensive,  their  language 
profane.  They  were  drinking  whisky  and  eating  on- 
ions and  cheese,  leaving  the  odor  of  the  car  far  from 
being  agreeable;  in  fact,  they  were  as  repulsive  as 
men  could  well  be,  and  be  permitted  to  remain  in  the 
car.  There  had  been  some  audible  grumbling  at  their 
coarse  language. 

The  train -boy  came  into  the  car  with  water,  and 
asked  one  of  these  colored  ladies  if  she  wished  some. 
She,  with  a  smile,  said,  "  Thank  you,"  reaching  out 
her  hand  to  take  the  glass,  when  one  of  these  dirty, 
blear-eyed,  half-drunken  creatures  roared  out,  with  an 
oath,  "  They're  giving  a  d — d  nigger  water !  "  The 
girl  turned  her  face  towards  the  wretch,  and  said,  in 
a  very  sweet  voice,  "Perhaps  this  gentleman  wants 
some  water;  you  had  better  pass  it  to  him  before  you 
offer  it  to  colored  people."  The  deep  pathos  of  her 
tone  moved  us  all.  Dr.  Cox,  who  was  sitting  near 
me,  and  with  whom  I' had  been  conversing,  said,  "  That 
is  well  done,  madam ;  thank  you !  "  One  of  the  men 
started  up,  and  glaring  at  the  doctor,  said,  "  Old  man, 
mind  your  business,  or  I'll  take  care  of  you."  Dr. 
Cox  said,  in  that  clear,  bell-like  voice  that  so  many 
remember,  "  Sir,  if  you  would  take  care  of  yourself, 
and  live  as  cleanly  as  I  have  all  my  life,  —  if  you  live 
to  be  as  old  as  I  am,  you  may  be  as  good-looking  an 
old  man  as  I  am." 

The  contrast  between  the  gray-haired,  fresh-looking 
gentleman  with  the  clear  eye,  the  fine  complexion,  and 
the  pure,  sweet  expression,  and  the  bleared  eye,  the 
bloated  face,  the  sensual  mouth,  the  coarse  skin  of  the 
brutal  fellow  who  had  dissolved  his  manliness  in 


SMOKING  IN  THE   CAES.  239 

drink,  was  so  striking,  that  every  one  in  the  car 
seemed  to  be  touched;  and  there  followed  a  round  of 
applause  from  hands  and  feet  for  a  minute,  to  the 
utter  discomfiture  of  the  four  ruffians,  who  were  very 
quiet,  and  soon  after  left  for  the  smoking-car.  I 
thoroughly  enjoyed  this  scene,  as  I  always  do  the  ex- 
tinguishment of  the  impudent  and  overbearing. 

It  may  sometimes  be  necessary  to  teach  some  men 
good  manners  by  a  little  rougher  treatment.  On  one 
occasion,  while  travelling,  I  saw  a  gentlemanly-look- 
ing man  enter  the  car.  I  heard  afterwards  that  he 
called  himself  "  a  Count,"  but  he  proved  to  be  of  very 
small  account,  —  who  illustrated  the  fact  that  looks 
are  sometimes  deceitful,  and  that  a  man  may  be  very 
well  dressed,  and  what  the  world  calls  genteel,  and  be 
but  a  slight  remove  from  a  blackguard.  This  person 
took  a  seat  directly  before  a  young  lady,  evidently 
travelling  alone.  After  a  while,  he  took  out  of  a  mo- 
rocco case  a  very  beautifully-carved  meerschaum  pipe, 
then  a  small  bag  of  tobacco.  He  filled  the  pipe, 
lighted  it  with  a  fusee,  and  opening  the  window, 
began  to  smoke. 

Soon  the  lady  said,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  the 
open  window  drives  the  smoke  in  my  face,  and  I  do 
not  like  tobacco  smoke ; "  to  which  appeal  he  only  re- 
plied by  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  and  a  long-drawn 
"Ah-h-h,"  and  went  on  smoking.  The  lady  again 
said, "  I  assure  you,  sir,  that  the  smoke  is  very  annoy- 
ing to  me ;  and  gentlemen  are  not  allowed  to  smoke 
in  this  car."  The  fellow  said,  in  a  drawling  tone,  "  If 
you  don't  like  the  smoke,  you  can  take  another  seat, 
can't  you?"  A  gentleman  rose,  reminding  me  very 
much  of  the  late  Judge  McLean,  and  walking  up  to 
the  smoker,  said,  very  sternly,  "Put  that  pipe  out 


240  PRACTICAL   JOKES. 

instantly."  The  reply  was,  "You  mind  your  busi- 
ness." The  gentleman  said  "I  will;  this  is  every 
gentleman's  business,"  and  suddenly  snatched  the  pipe 
from  the  man's  mouth,  and  threw  it  out  of  the  open 
window,  and  then  remarked,  "  You  may  resent  that, 
if  you  please."  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  as  well 
to  call  for  the  conductor,  but  by  the  applause  that 
greeted  him  when  he  took  his  seat,  the  passengers 
evidently  thought  the  punishment  was  just.  The 
smoker  seemed  of  less  account  than  ever,  and  looked 
like  a  figure  9  with  the  tail  cut  off. 

I  enjoy  a  joke,  but  practical  jokes  so  called  — 
though  often  exhibiting  some  ingenuity,  and  calling 
out  our  laughter  at  their  absurdity  —  are  one-sided, 
and  the  fun  is  generally  for  the  perpetrator,  and  the 
misery  and  mortification  for  the  victim.  There  is  too 
often  a  vein  of  heartlessness,  if  not  of  cruelty,  run- 
ning through  the  whole  transaction,  and  the  life-long 
sufferers  from  a  practical  joke  are  not  a  few.  I  like 
fun  without  malice  or  heartlessness ;  and  a  sharp  and 
well-deserved  lesson  may  be  taught  by  a  joke.  A 
man,  in  spite,  once  chalked  the  word  "  scoundrel "  on 
a  neighbor's  door.  The  next  morning,  the  neighbor 
called.  The  man  was  out;  so  he  left  his  compliments 
with  the  servant,  stating  that  he  had  returned  the 
call,  as  her  master  had  left  his  name  at  the  door. 

When  in  Sacramento,  I  met  the  man  who,  when  a 
boy,  was  the  cause  of  my  losing  a  good  situation  by 
an  attempt  to  retaliate  on  him  a  practical  joke  he  had 
played  on  me.  I  was  working  at  my  bench,  and  a 
tub  of  paste  was  by  my  side  with  brushes  in  it  for 
use,  when  he  took  one  of  these  brushes,  heavily  loaded 
with  paste,  and  holding  it  near  my  face,  said,  "  John ! " 
I  turned  quickly,  and  got  the  paste  on  my  face  and  in 


ANYTHING  BUT  A  JOKE.  241 

my  hair.  I  was  thoroughly  vexed.  He  ran  down  the 
stairs.  I  took  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  putting  perhaps 
a  pint  of  paste  on  it,  and  holding  it  on  the  palm  of 
my  hand,  waited  at  the  door  till  he  should  come.  I 
determined  to  wait  there  all  day,  or  until  I  should 
catch  him,  as  I  knew  that  he  must  come  back,  and  by 
that  door.  So  there  I  stood,  biding  my  opportunity, 
when  I  heard  him,  as  I  thought,  stealthily  creeping  up 
the  stairs.  "Now,"  I  thought,  "my  boy,  you  shall 
have  it,"  and  braced  myself  for  the  deed.  I  was  ex- 
cited at  the  thought  of  paying  him  in  his  own  coin, 
when  the  door  opened,  and  with  all  my  might  I  dabbed 
the  whole  mass  upon  his  face.  Oh,  horror!  it  was  the 
boss  of  the  shop !  Never  shall  I  forget  how  he  looked, 
or  how  I  felt.  The  joke  was  anything  but  a  joke,  for 
in  a  short  time  I  was  dismissed  from  my  employment. 
There  I  learned  that  practical  jokes,  especially  hi 
cases  of  mistaken  identity,  are  often  expensive. 


CHAPTER  XYIL 


VICTIMS   OF   DRINK.  —  SCENES  FKOM   LIFE. 

Beer  as  a  Beverage  —  Beer  Drunkenness  among  Women  —  Great  Brit- 
ain's Curse  —  "  Doctored"  Beer  —  The  Inside  of  a  London  Gin-Palace 
—  What  is  "All  Sorts?"  —  Kinahan's  L.  L.  —  The  Landlord  — The 
Bar- Maid  —  The  Customers  —  Life  in  the  Bar-Room  —  Disgraceful 
Scenes  —  "  Fair  Play  "  —  What  the  "  London  Times  "  says  —  A  "  Gen- 
teel" Gin-Palace  —  Rev.  Wm.  Arnot  on  the  Liquor  Traffic — The 
Fratricide  —  A  Hardened  Woman  —  The  Gambler's  Suicide  —  A  Hor- 
rible Sight  —  Suicide  of  McConnell  — The  Blood-Stains  on  the  Floor — 
The  Meanest  Man  in  the  World  —  The  Rumseller's  Bargain  —  Result 
of  the  Trade  —  Dr.  Guthrie's  Testimony  —  That  of  Canon  Farrar  — 
"Fruits  of  the  Traffic"  — A  Ghastly  Story  of  the  Prisoner  at  Dart- 
mouth —  The  Convict's  Story — Rum  and  Murder  —  Remorse  — Wait- 
ing for  Death. 


HERE   is  in  this   country  a  growing 
tendency  toward  the  commendation  of 
beer  as  a   beverage.     This   fallacy  is 
built   upon   the   misapprehension  that 
drunkenness  is   caused   altogether  by 
spirituous  liquors.     The  greatest  harm 
from  the  use  of  beer  is  in  its  soporific 
effects,  stupefying  the  drinker  if  he  im- 
bibes largely;  consequently,  the  consump- 
tion of  beer  is  alarmingly  on  the  increase.     If  this 
tendency  caused  a  diminution  in  the  consumption  of 
spirituous  liquors,  we  should  be  not  so  much  troubled. 
It  is  an  acknowledged  fact  that  the  drunkenness  of 

242 


EVERYBODY  IS   DRUNK.  243 

England  is  mainly  produced  by  beer.  It  is  a  fallacy 
to  say  that  if  we  can  induce  men  to  drink  beer  instead 
of  spirits,  there  will  be  less  intemperance.  The  Eng- 
lish Beer  Act  of  1830  was  passed  on  this  false  theory, 
when  it  was  received  with  almost  universal  acclamation. 
This  measure  was  designed  to  supply  what  Lord 
Brougham  called  a  "  moral  species  of  beverage,"  in- 
stead of  immoral  gin  and  rum,  and  was  to  prove  an 
inestimable  blessing  to  the  British  workingman,  by 
giving  him  free  access  to  this  cheap  and  "  wholesome  " 
beverage.  The  express  purpose  of  the  act  was  to  en- 
courage the  consumption  of  beer,  and  discourage  that 
of  spirits.  "What  was  the  result?  Sydney  Smith  has 
given  the  whole  story  in  a  nut-shell :  "  The  new  Beer 
Bill  has  began  its  operations.  Everybody  is  drunk. 
Those  who  are  not  singing  are  sprawling.  The  sov- 
ereign people  are  in  a  beastly  state."  The  scheme 
was  a  bitter  disappointment  to  its  friends.  While  the 
distillation  of  spirits  has  not  decreased,  beer-makers 
have  become  a  power ;  and  I  believe  there  is  no  single 
power  in  Great  Britain  which  so  influences  British 
character,  and  so  sways  the  material  and  moral  des- 
tinies of  the  British  people,  as  the  influence  that  sits 
enthroned  on  the  beer  butts  of  the  brewers. 

That  "  beer  is  the  curse  of  Great  Britain "  is  not 
my  sentiment  alone,  but  that  of  thousands  who  feel 
its  truth  in  the  growing  demoralization  of  the  people 
from  its  effects,  and  who  are  protesting  against  it. 
The  drunkenness  of  England  is  something  frightful. 
The  first  expression  of  surprise  from  an  American  or 
foreigner  landing  on  the  shores  of  Great  Britain,  is 
at  the  vast  number  of  public-houses  so  well  patron- 
ized, and  at  the  proportion  of  women  who  frequent 


244  LONDON  DRUNKENNESS. 

them.*  The  subject  is  overwhelming.  With  my  voice 
I  can  speak,  but  on  paper  words  fail  me.  By  day  I 
have  walked  in  the  brilliant  metropolis,  and  the  key- 
note in  every  street  was  drink.  At  night  alone,  or  in 
the  viler  quarters,  accompanied  by  a  detective,  I  have 
peered  into  the  slums,  and  there  beheld  sights  of  orgy 
which  compel  me  to  believe  that  drunkenness  in  Eng- 
land among  a  section  of  the  "  lower  classes  "  is  more 
prevalent  now  than  it  was  twenty  years  ago.  I  have 
stated  the  same  impression  in  one  of  the  London 
periodicals.  This  evident  increase  of  intemperance, 
I  believe,  has  startled  a  multitude  of  conscientious 
men  and  women  to  action  in  this  matter;  and  I  trust 
in  God  that  the  results  of  the  uprising  of  the  Chris- 
tian philanthropists  against  this  monstrous  evil  will 
be  as  successful  as  the  uprising  of  the  North  was 
against  the  twin  curse  to  the  world  —  Slavery. 

Beer  was  to  be  introduced  as  a  substitute  for  gin, 
but  has  become  only  an  additional  article  for  intoxi- 
cation, demonstrating  that  the  use  of  beer  leads  on 
to  spirits.  There  are  some  who  say  that  lager  beer 
is  not  intoxicating.  I  heard  a  reformed  man  say  that 
he  got  so  drunk  on  lager  that,  to  use  his  own  expres- 
sion, he  "  couldn't  tell  the  difference  between  a  two- 
dollar  bill  and  Boston  Common."  Men  drink  for  in- 
toxication, and  the  beer  only  ministers  to  this  desire. 
Let  us  look  at  a  modern  public-house,  or  gin-palace, 
in  London. 

There  are  some  which  are  regarded  more  respecta- 
ble than  others,  but  this  corner  establishment  is  an 
average  "palace;"  is  very  gay,  gaudy  and  glittering; 
its  brilliant  gas-jets  gleaming  through  its  windows  of 

*  16,525  women  were  found  drank  and  disorderly  in  London,  in  1878. 


A  GET-PALACE.  245 

finest  plate  glass.  There  is  no  lack  of  French  polish 
and  gilding.  Tier  after  tier  of  gigantic  casks  sur- 
round the  room.  Beer  is  sold  a  halfpenny  a  pint 
cheaper  than  at  the  beer-house.  It  is  curious  beer, 
half  sweet  and  half  acrid,  black,  muddy,  brown  in  the 
froth,  unpleasant  to  the  taste,  adulterated,  cobbled  up 
that  the  dealer  may  get  rich  and  the  customer  drunk 
and  poisoned.  There  is  very  little  beer  that  is  not 
"  doctored  "  and  made  even  worse  than  in  its  original 
state  by  deleterious  drugs.  Indeed,  every  kind  of 
intoxicating  liquors  is  adulterated.  The  manufac- 
ture of  wines,  brandies,  whiskeys,  and  other  liquors 
is  a  wonderfully  profitable  trade.  I  have  a  book, 
obtained  with  some  difficulty,  on  the  manufacture  of 
these  articles,  and  the  revelation  is  somewhat  star- 
tling. But  to  return  to  the  public-house. 

The  area  before  the  bar  will  hold  seventy  or  eighty 
persons,  allowing  at  the  same  time  room  for  a  stand- 
up  fight.  The  gin-palace  has  not  only  a  bar  but 
divers  boxes  partitioned  off  from  the  general  area. 
There  is  the  wholesale  bar  entrance,  retail  entrance, 
jug  and  bottle  entrance;  but  wholesale  or  retail,  jug 
or  bottle,  it  means  beer  and  spirits.  The  bar  is  cov- 
ered with  pewter,  perforated  to  allow  the  drainings, 
washings  and  outspillings  of  the  glasses  to  run 
through,  —  all  which  is  dealt  out  again,  under  the 
name  of  "  all  sorts."  The  drinkers  being  shaky  in 
the  hand,  the  profit  from  this  source  tells  up  at  the 
close  of  the  year.  At  the  back  of  the  bar  are  pla- 
cards printed  in  colors  and  framed,  telling  of  "  Old 
Tom,"  "Cream  of  the  Yalley,"  " Superior  Cream  Gin," 
"  Beer,  Strong  as  Brandy,  Tenpence  a  Pot,"  "  The 
Dew  off  Ben  Nevis,"  "Kinahan's  L.  L.,  the  Eight 
Sort."  I  was  told,  when  in  Dublin,  that  the  origin  of 


246  LASTDLORD    AND    CUSTOMERS. 

the  mark  on  the  casks  of  Kinahan's  L.  L.  is  that  one 
of  the  Lord  Lieutenants  some  years  ago  was  very  par- 
tial to  a  certain  kind  of  whiskey  made  by  Kinahan, 
and  when  the  casks  were  sent  to  the  government 
house  they  were  marked  "  Kinahan's  L.  L.,  the  Right 
Sort." 

Look  at  the  landlord,  corpulent,  hands  in  his  pock- 
ets, his  keen  eyes  fixed  on  the  beer  or  gin-drawing 
gymnastics  of  his  bar-man,  who  wears  a  cap  and 
holds  a  piece  of  straw  or  the  stalk  of  a  flower  in  his 
mouth.  See  how  viciously  he  bites  the  silver  coin 
when  suspicious  of  its  genuineness.  When  he  gives 
you  change,  he  slaps  it  down  on  the  counter  with 
"  'ere  ye  are,"  and  to  the  next  customer,  "  Now,  then." 
There  is  generally  a  bar-maid  or  two,  and  the  number 
is  increasing  (for  they  are  found  more  attractive  than 
men),  with  a  brilliant  complexion,  long  ringlets,  and 
necklace. 

Look  at  the  customers,  for  what  you  see  in  one  gin- 
palace  is  seen  in  all,  with  some  qualifications.  There 
is  a  sickening  sameness,  for  while  some  of  them  have 
a  respectable  appearance,  a  majority  of  the  frequent- 
ers are  thieves,  beggars,  hoary-headed  old  men, 
stunted,  ragged,  rickety  children,  blowsy,  slatternly 
women,  heavy-looking  laboring  men,  gaunt,  sickly, 
half-grown  creatures.  It  is  the  same  everywhere;  the 
same  woman  giving  her  baby  gin ;  the  same  haggard, 
dishevelled  wife  coaxing  her  husband  home;  the  same 
poor  girl  sitting  meekly  in  a  corner  with  both  eyes 
blackened,  while  her  partner  is  drinking;  the  same 
pale,  weary-looking  little  man,  who  appears  as  if  he 
had  come  up  out  of  his  grave  to  get  another  glass  of 
gin,  and  has  forgotten  his  way  back;  the  same  red- 
nosed  man  who  disgusts  you  with  his  slang,  and  sur- 


PUBLIC-HOUSE    SCENES.  247 

prises  you  with  his  Greek  and  Latin  quotations ;  the 
same  thin  spectral  man  who  has  no  money,  with  hands 
piteously  laid  over  each  other,  standing  for  hours, 
gazing  with  gin-hungry  eyes  at  the  liquor,  licking 
his  fever-white  lips,  smelling,  thinking,  hopelessly 
longing. 

More  dreadful  than  any,  that  same  miserable  girl, 
sixteen  in  years,  one  hundred  in  misery,  with  foul 
matted  hair,  ragged  boots,  cracked  voice,  tattered 
shawl,  and  hopeless  eye;  her  haggard  face  stamped 
with  the  impress  of  death.  See  that  man  whitening 
his  face  to  do  the  ghost  in  Hamlet!  Here's  a  coster- 
monger,  with  a  basket,  pressing  his  way  up  to  the 
bar,  and  jostles  that  vender  of  fish. 

"Now  then,  stupid,  vere  are  you  driving  to,  eh? 
I  say,  I'm  blessed  if  there  isn't  the  werry  same  fish 
you  vos  a- wending  a  week  ago  last  Monday !  " 

"Come,  old  fellow,  I'll  butter  your  muffins  both 
sides  for  you,  and  throw  in  the  pepper  for  nothing/' 

"Till  ye?" 

"Ikinandlvill." 

Both  set  down  their  baskets.  The  slang  is  awful. 
One  of  the  raggedest,  dirtiest,  and  smallest  of  the 
boys  climbs  on  a  barrel  and  shouts  out  "Fair  play!  " 
An  extensive  "  shindy  "  is  kicked  up,  and  the  fighting 
becomes,  as  one  of  them  tells  us,  quite  "  permiscus." 
The  police  are  called  in,  the  house  cleared,  the  doors 
closed;  the  mob  dispersed,  the  door  opens  and  the 
game  goes  on. 

Such  is  a  fair  specimen  of  a  certain  class,  and  by 
far  the  most  numerous  class  of  publics.     In  proof 
that  my  description  is  not  overdrawn,  I  give  an  ex- 
tract from  the  leading  newspaper  of  England: 
16 


248  FASHIONABLE   CAPES. 

"In  other  parts  of  the  world,"  says  the  "  London  Times,"  "maybe 
seen  the  frown  of  the  African  when  excited  by  rum,  the  contortions  of 
Arabs  under  the  influence  of  'hashish,'  Malays  furious  from  'bang,' 
Turks  trembling  under  the  effects  of  opium,  Chinese  strangely  emaci- 
ated from  its  inordinate  use ;  but  for  a  scene  of  horrid  vice  and  filth  and 
lust  and  fury,  all  drawn  into  one  point  and  there  fermenting,  a  man 
might  search  the  world  all  over  and  not  find  a  rival  to  a  thriving  public- 
house  in  a  low,  gin-drinking  neighborhood.  Is  it,  then,  astonishing  that 
of  such  scenes  as  these  an  eminent  judge  should  say  that  the  working- 
man  often  enters  the  public-house  respectable  and  leaves  it  a  felon?  " 

"While  the  Londoners  have  imitated  the  Americans 
in  some  beneficial  respects,  they  have  imitated  them  in 
a  ruinous  direction  in  the  cafes  and  saloons  that  are 
springing  up  in  the  best  thoroughfares,  —  many  of 
them  very  gorgeous  and  attractive,  most  of  them 
with  private  apartments,  the  customers  of  a  higher 
grade  in  the  social  scale  than  those  to  be  found  in  the 
common  but  less  dangerous  gin-palace.  I  have  stood 
as  a  looker-on  before  some  of  these  places  to  note 
the  patrons.  They  come  in  cabs  or  hansoms,  —  young 
girls  with  their  gentlemen  friends,  perhaps  lovers. 
Nothing  there  to  offend  the  eye:  a  policeman  on 
special  duty ;  no  noise,  no  profanity,  no  ribald  songs ; 
it  is  genteel.  Such  places  are  byways  to  perdition. 
Then  there  are  the  music-halls,  —  many  of  them  dis- 
graceful, some  more  exclusive,  others  tolerably  de- 
cent, all  licensed  by  act  of  Parliament,  —  of  which  I 
may  speak  on  another  page. 

There  is  no  trade  so  damaging  to  the  community, 
so  dangerous  to  the  people,  and  so  hardening  to  the 
dealer,  as  the  trade  in  intoxicating  liquors.  Men 
naturally  kindhearted,  who  would  help  a  fellow-being 
in  distress,  risking  their  own  lives  to  save  other  lives, 
seem,  in  this  trade,  to  lose  all  humanity  or  sympathy 
with  the  race,  as  far  as  their  trade  is  concerned. 

The  late  Rev.  Wm.  Arnot,  of  Edinburgh,  at  my 


REV.   WM.   AKN'OT.  249 

request  furnished  me  with  his  views  on  the  liquor 
traffic.  His  manuscript  lies  before  me,  and  I  tran- 
scribe some  of  the  principal  heads.  He  says: 

"  The  liquor  traffic  stands  alone,  and  has  no  right  to  rank  with  the 
ordinary  avocations  of  men.  Bring  it  at  once  and  bluntly  to  the  test  of 
common  sense  and  conscience.  Let  there  be  five  contiguous  shops  pos- 
sessed by  five  separate  shopkeepers.  The  first  sells  bread,  the  second 
milk,  the  third  leather,  the  fourth  dry-goods,  and  the  fifth  intoxicating 
liquor.  The  five  men  ply  their  tasks  all  day,  count  the  contents  of  the 
till  at  night,  and  consider  the  prospects  of  trade  for  the  morrow.  The 
more  they  have  sold,  the  better  for  their  own  pecuniary  interests.  In 
this  they  are  all  alike.  But  the  more  that  the  customers  have  bought 
from  the  first  four,  the  better  for  the  general  interests  of  the  public ;  the 
more  that  the  customers  have  bought  from  the  last,  the  worse  for  them- 
selves and  for  society.  The  other  dealers  may,  with  a  good  conscience, 
pray  for  the  increase  of  their  sales ;  the  fifth  cannot  pray,  unless  his  con- 
science is  seared  as  with  a  hot  iron.  He  has  seen  many  customers  enter 
his  shop  to-day  and  spend  money  which  he  knows  is  worse  than  lost  to 
them.  He  cannot  desire  that  they  should  repeat  their  custom  on  the 
morrow  without  deliberately  wishing  ill  to  his  neighbor.  In  short,  his 
own  pecuniary  interests  are  at  direct  variance  with  the  interests  of  his 
customers.  The  prosperity  of  his  trade  is  the  ruin  of  those  who  deal 
with  him. 

"  A  poor  inebriate,  with  his  mind  weakened  by  frequent  indulgence, 
demands  a  glass,  pays  for  it,  swallows  it.  He  demands  another;  the 
dealer  gives  it :  he  gains  a  penny  or  two  by  the  transaction ;  but  the 
penny,  he  can  but  know,  is  wrung  from  the  life-blood  of  a  brother. 
When  such  a  wretch  demands  his  glass,  it  is  the  experimentum  crucis  for 
the  dealer.  If  at  that  moment  he  love  his  neighbor,  he  will  refuse ;  if 
he  only  love  his  own  gain,  he  will  give  it.  He  stands  helpless  between 
these  two  dread  alternatives :  he  must  either  abandon  his  own  gains,  or 
be  the  agent  in  the  perdition  of  his  neighbor.  There  is  in  practice 
seldom  any  mental  struggle,  because  a  man  soon  becomes  case-hardened. 
Generally  the  liquor-seller  pours  out  the  glass  to  the  drunkard  without 
any  uncomfortable  twitches  within ;  this,  however,  is  due,  not  to  the 
innocence  of  the  deed,  but  to  the  hardness  of  the  doer's  conscience.  We 
do  not  say  the  liquor-seller  is  worse  than  other  men ;  but  this  business  is 
so  bad  that  he  must  either  part  with  his  trade  in  order  to  retain  his 
humanity,  or  part  with  his  humanity  in  order  to  retain  his  trade. 

"A  certain  large  village  in  Perthshire,  the  centre  of  an  agricultural 
district,  is,  like  its  neighbors,  dotted  much  with  public-houses,  one  of 
which,  at  the  least  equal  to  others  in  respectability,  is  kept  by  a  widow. 
This  widow  had  two  brothers :  one,  unmarried,  resided  under  her  roof; 
the  other,  the  father  of  a  family,  was  a  farmer  in  the  neighborhood, 


250  THE    LIQUOR   TRAFFIC. 

whose  brain  had  been  permanently  injured  by  long-continued  habits  of 
excessive  drinking.  The  two  brothers  were  wont  to  dine  together,  along 
with  other  relatives,  in  their  sister's  house,  on  the  day  of  the  weekly 
market  of  the  village.  One  market-day  the  party  had  all  assembled, 
and  the  dinner  was  not  ready.  The  farmer  was  impatient;  his  brother 
tried  to  soothe  him  with  gentle  words,  and  then  left  the  room  to  hasten 
the  preparation  of  the  meal.  The  man  could  not,  with  his  damaged 
intellect,  lay  any  rein  on  the  fury  of  his  passion ;  he  followed  fast,  and 
in  the  lobby  plunged  a  knife  in  his  brother's  breast.  The  wounded  man 
was  carried  to  his  bed  and  died.  The  fratricide  was  tried  for  murder 
and  found  guilty,  but  on  the  ground  of  insanity  was  sentenced  to  per- 
petual imprisonment  instead  of  death.  The  people  pay  the  expense  of 
that  murderer's  maintenance  during  the  period  of  his  natural  life ;  and 
the  widowed  sister,  —  bereft  of  both  her  brothers,  the  murdered  and  the 
murderer,  —  what  of  her?  She  had  her  brother's  blood  washed  from  the 
floor,  then  tucked  up  her  sleeves,  and  continued  to  sell  whiskey  in  the 
same  house  and  the  same  room.  At  this  hour  that  sister  trips  across 
'  the  spot  that  will  not  out,'  with  the  server  and  glasses,  to  her  jovial 
customers.  She  is  not  conscience-stricken,  and  her  neighbors  are  not 
shocked. 

"  The  traffic  in  liquor,  as  it  is  commonly  conducted,  soon  withers  a 
woman's  soul  within  her.  It  has  no  rights  to  plead,  and  we  must  lay 
restraints  on  those  who  are  engaged  in  it,  and  save  them  from  them- 
selves." 

The  liquor  traffic  is  the  same  unrighteous  trade 
everywhere;  its  hardening  influence  on  the  traffickers 
is  as  manifest  here  as  in  Great  Britain.  The  trade  is 
no  worse  there  than  here;  indeed,  I  believe  that,  as  a 
general  thing,  the  liquor-sellers  there  are  a  better 
class  than  here.  Years  ago  it  was  considered  in  many 
sections  of  our  country  a  very  disreputable  thing  to 
sell  liquor;  and  whether  we  are  "bravely"  getting 
rid  of  that  idea  or  not,  the  fact  is,  the  business  is  as 
bad  now  as  it  ever  was,  and,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  a 
little  worse. 

Some  years  since,  in  a  hotel  not  far  from  Boston, 
a  poor  fellow  who  had  been  gambling  nearly  all  night 
cut  his  throat  in  the  room  over  the  bar  on  the  Sunday 
morning.  The  group  round  the  bar  were  startled  by 


THE    MEANEST   MEtf.  253 

a  heavy  drop  of  blood  falling  on  the  counter,  and, 
looking  up,  discovered  a  large  red  stain  on  the  ceil- 
ing, from  the  centre  of  which  the  drops  of  blood  were 
gathering  and  falling  on  the  counter,  faster  and  faster, 
till  they  splashed  on  the  floor.  It  was  known  that 
before  the  blood  was  cleaned  from  the  bar  and  floor 
men  were  drinking  and  the  trade  went  on,  though  it 
was  the  Sabbath-day. 

When  poor  McConnell  cut  himself  to  pieces  in  a 
bar-room  in  Washington,  it  was  stated,  and  never 
denied,  that  the  saloon-keeper  boasted  he  had  cleared 
over  one  hundred  dollars  by  the  operation,  as  so  many 
came  in  to  see  the  blood-stains  where  the  poor  fellow 
had  lain;  and  they  could  hardly  come  in  without  tak- 
ing a  drink. 

The  meanest  men  on  the  face  of  the  earth  are 
among  the  liquor-sellers  in  this  country.  I  knew  of 
a  woman  who  had  lost  her  husband  by  drink,  and  was 
left  penniless,  with  four  children.  I  do  not  say  the 
drink-seller  swindled  him;  but  he  had  got  possession 
of  his  little  home,  and  all  the  poor  sot  had  to  show 
for  his  share  of  the  bargain  was  the  livery  of  the 
drunkard.  The  widow  was  left  very  poor,  and  took 
in  plain  sewing,  which  was  rather  hard  to  get.  Some 
time  after  the  loss  of  her  husband  the  liquor-seller 
called  and  condoled  with  her,  asked  her  kindly  about 
her  prospects,  professed  his  desire  to  serve  her,  and 
proposed  that  she  should  make  some  shirts  for  him ; 
he  wanted  a  dozen  at  fifty  cents  each,  —  that  would 
be  six  dollars.  Gladly  the  poor  widow  accepted  the 
proposal,  and  began  to  think  the  liquor-dealer  was  a 
humane  man. 

She  toiled  on,  comforting  herself  with  the  thought 
of  six  dollars,  and  thinking  pleasantly  of  what  she 


254  DASTARDLY   TRANSACTION. 

should  do  with  the  money.  She  planned  for  a  pair  of 
shoes  for  the  shoeless  boy,  a  dress  for  the  girl,  and  so 
worked  on  till  her  work  was  done;  carried  it  to  her 
employer,  who  found  no  fault  with  the  work  —  all 
perfectly  satisfactory.  After  examining  the  articles, 
he  said,  "I  have  always  considered  you  an  honest 

woman,  Mrs. ,  anxious  that  all  should  have  their 

dues.  Now,  I  owe  you  six  dollars,  but  I  have  a  claim 
against  you  —  that  is,  if  you  are  the  honest  woman  I 
take  you  for.  I  have  a  note  of  your  husband's  for 
five  dollars,  given  me  about  a  month  before  he  died. 
Now,  if  I  pay  you  one  dollar,  that  will  make  us 
square ; "  and  actually  returned  her  the  note  given  by 
her  poor,  besotted  husband,  and  the  one  dollar.  This 
woman  related  this  fact  to  me  herself.  Truly  the 
"  tender  mercies  of  the  wicked  are  cruelty." 

The  result  of  this  trade  is  to  multiply  want,  aggra- 
vate misery,  to  stimulate  every  evil  passion  into  crime. 
The  sufferings  of  the  victim  are  not  all;  the  poverty, 
hunger,  nakedness,  and  cold;  the  battered  body,  with 
mind  beclouded,  and  conscience  destroyed.  If  that 
were  all,  it  would  be  enough  to  call  loudly  for  some 
remedy;  but  this  is  not  all:  the  drunkard's  curses 
grow  into  blows  upon  his  wife,  and  his  savage  vio- 
lence is  expended  on  his  children.  Exaggerate  the 
evil?  Dr.  Guthrie  says:  "It  is  impossible  to  exag- 
gerate; impossible  truthfully  to  paint  the  effects  of 
this  evil,  either  on  those  who  are  addicted  to  it,  or  on 
those  who  suffer  from  it;  imbruted  husbands,  broken- 
hearted wives,  and,  most  of  all,  those  poor,  innocent 
children  that  are  dying  under  cruelty  and  starvation; 
that  shiver  in  those  rags  upon  our  streets ;  that  walk 
unshod  amid  winter  snows ;  and  with  matted  hair,  and 


FRUITS   OF   THE   TRAFFIC.  255 

hollow  cheeks,  and  sunken  eyes,  glare  out  on  us  wild 
and  savage-like  from  patched  and  filthy  windows." 

This  great  curse  cannot  be  ignored,  and  woe  to 
those  who,  for  profit  or  popularity,  or  any  other  mo- 
tives, will  not  only  not  seek  to  repress  it,  but  actually 
encourage  it.  I  cannot  believe  that  any  Christian  man 
can  investigate  this  evil  and  its  causes,  without  being 
stirred  in  his  inmost  soul  to  do  something  to  stem  the 
terrible  tide.  Much  of  the  indifference  is  from  want 
of  knowledge;  it  is  the  apathy  that  springs  from 
ignorance. 

Canon  Farrar  says :  "  I  must  confess  that  it  is  only 
familiarity  with  the  subject  that  can  at  all  impress  us 
with  its  magnitude.  In  the  providence  of  God,  my 
own  life  has  been  passed  in  quiet  country  places,  and 
it  was  not  till  I  came  to  London,  and  not  till  my  atten- 
tion was  very  deliberately  turned  by  circumstances  to 
it,  that  I  saw  how  terrible  was  the  curse  which  was  at 
work  in  the  midst  of  us.  It  seems  to  me  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  a  Fury,  withering  and  blighting 
the  whole  fame  of  England.  Every  week  in  the 
organ  of  the  United  Kingdom  Alliance  is  published 
a  ghastly  column  called  '  Fruits  of  the  Traffic.'  It  is 
no  invention;  it  is  no  rhetoric;  it  is  nothing  that  is 
disputable,  nothing  that  can  in  the  least  be  ques- 
tioned; it  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  series  of  hor- 
ribly prosaic  cuttings  from  the  accidents  and  offences, 
the  police  and  criminal  reports  of  other  newspapers ; 
and  it  records  calamity  after  calamity  and  crime  after 
crime,  disease,  shipwrecks,  conflagrations,  murders, 
the  kicking  and  trampling  of  women,  the  maiming 
and  murdering  of  little  children,  —  all  of  which  are 
directly  attributed  to  the  effects  of  drink,  by  the  dec- 
laration of  judges,  by  the  reiterated  testimony  of 


256  A  MURDERER. 

witnesses,  and  by  the  constant  remorseful  confessions 
of  the  poor  criminals  themselves." 

Can  we  submit  to  be  taxed  to  support  all  that  this 
curse  brings  upon  us  ?  I  have  before  spoken  of  crime ; 
let  me  relate  a  fact.  In  the  Dartmouth  prison  was  a 
prisoner,  a  fine-looking,  intelligent  old  man,  who  had 
been  in  a  respectable  position  in  society.  He  was 
under  sentence  of  penal  servitude  for  life.  His  nature 
was  kind,  courteous,  and  amiable;  he  was  so  child- 
like and  simple-hearted  you  could  hardly  conceive 
of  his  committing  an  act  of  brutality  and  violence; 
and  yet  he  had  murdered  his  wife,  who,  he  said,  had 
been  dearer  to  him  than  his  own  life  for  twenty  years. 
He  had  gone  out  to  spend  the  evening  with  some 
friends,  had  taken  an  unusual  quantity  of  liquor,  and 
came  home  drunk.  When  expostulated  with  at  the 
door  by  his  wife,  in  his  madness  he  struck  her  a  blow 
that  laid  her  dead  at  his  feet. 

This  reminds  me  of  a  case  I  met  in  one  of  our  own 
state  prisons.  I  was  attracted,  while  speaking  to  the 
prisoners  in  the  chapel,  by  the  patient,  gentle  look  of 
one  of  the  convicts  who  sat  before  me,  whose  whole 
appearance  was  that  of  a  mild-tempered,  quiet  man. 
After  the  service,  one  of  the  prison  officers,  in  reply 
to  my  question,  stated  that  this  same  man  was  serving 
out  a  life  term.  I  asked  what  was  the  possible  crime 
for  which  he  was  serving  a  life  term  in  a  state's 
prison. 

"Murder." 

"Murder?" 

"  Yes ;  he  murdered  his  wife." 

Having  asked  if  I  might  have  an  interview  with 
him,  my  request  was  granted,  and  I  held  a  conversa- 
tion with  him. 


UNAVAILING  REGRET.  257 

"  My  friend,  I  do  not  wish  to  ask  you  any  questions 
that  will  be  annoying;  but  I  was  struck  by  your  ap- 
pearance, and  was  so  much  surprised  when  I  heard  of 
your  crime,  that  I  thought  I  would  like  to  ask  you  a 
question.  May  I?" 

"  Certainly,  sir." 

"  Then  why  did  you  commit  the  crime?  What  led 
you  to  it?  " 

Then  came  such  a  pitiful  story.     He  said: 

"  I  loved  my  wife,  but  I  drank  to  excess ;  she  was 
a  good  woman;  she  never  complained;  come  home 
when  or  how  I  might,  she  never  scolded.  I  think 
I  never  heard  a  sharp  word  from  her.  She  would 
sometimes  look  at  me  with  such  a  pitying  look  that 
went  to  my  heart:  sometimes  it  made  me  tender, 
and  I  would  cry  and  promise  to  do  better;  at  other 
times  it  would  make  me  angry.  I  almost  wished 
she  would  scold  me,  rather  than  look  at  me  with  that 
patient  earnestness.  I  knew  I  was  breaking  her  heart, 
but  I  was  a  slave  to  drink;  though  I  loved  her,  I 
knew  I  was  killing  her.  One  day  I  came  home  drunk, 
and  as  I  entered  the  room  I  saw  her  sitting  at  the 
table,  her  face  resting  on  her  hand.  Oh,  my  God !  I 
think  I  see  her  now !  As  I  came  in  she  lifted  up  her 
face;  there  were  tears  there,  but  she  smiled  and  said, 
'Well,  William.'  I  remember  just  enough  to  know 
that  I  was  mad.  The  devil  entered  into  me.  I  rushed 
into  the  kitchen,  seized  my  gun,  and  deliberately  shot 
her  as  she  sat  by  that  table.  I  am  in  prison  for  life, 
and  I  have  no  desire  to  be  released.  If  a  pardon  was 
offered  me,  I  think  I  should  refuse  it.  Buried  here  in 
this  prison,  I  wait  till  the  end  comes.  I  trust  God  has 
forgiven  me  for  Christ's  sake.  I  have  bitterly  re- 
pented; I  repent  every  day.  Oh,  the  nights  when  in 


258  ONLY   ONE   VICTIM. 

the  darkness  I  see  her  face  —  see  her  just  as  she 
looked  on  me  that  fatal  day!  I  shall  rejoice  when  the 
time  comes.  I  pray  that  I  may  meet  her  in  heaven." 

This  was  said  with  sobbings  and  tears  that  were 
heart-breaking  to  hear. 

Only  one  victim  among  the  many ! 


CHAPTER    XYIII. 

DESPAIR  AND   DEATH.  —  STORIES    OF    RUINED   HOMES 
AND   BROKEN   HEARTS. 

The  Prisoner's  Testimony  —  How  Prisons  are  filled  —  The  Offspring  of 
Drink  —  Appalling  Statistics  —  The  Inhuman  Father  —  Selling  a  Child 
for  Two  Pairs  of  Stockings  —  Getting  drunk  with  the  Proceeds  — The 
Drunken  Mother  and  her  Dying  Children  —  An  Affecting  Story  — 
Sufferings  in  the  Best  Circles  —  A  Terrible  Story  —  The  Brutal  Hus- 
band and  his  Dead  Wife  —  Horrible  Brutality  —  Truth  stranger  than 
Fiction  —  The  Clergyman's  Suicide  —  The  Lawyer's  Despair  and 
Death  —  Rum  unmakes  the  Gentleman  —  A  Dreadful  Domestic  Scene 
—  The  Beaten  and  Disfigured  Wife  —  Destruction  of  Property  —  The 
Mountaineer's  Home  —  Rum-Madness  —  Driven  from  Home  —  The 
Night  on  the  Mountain  —  Terrible  Destitution  and  Sufferings  — 
The  Desolate  Home  —  Enticed  to  a  Grog-Shop  —  A  Drunken  Sot  — 
The  Winter's  Night  —  Eaten  by  Swine. 

"  the  "  London  Times "  is  a  letter  from 
a  very  intelligent  man  who  suffered  six 
years'  imprisonment  for  crime  committed 
under  the  influence  of  drink.  I  give  a 
few  extracts.  He  says: 

"  During  the  whole  of  my  stay  in  prison  the  ques- 
tion kept  rising  in  my  mind,  What  brings  all  these  men 
here?    Day  after  day  I  asked  men  with  whom  I  came 
in  contact   what  brought  them  to   prison.      I   got  as  an 
answer  the  '  same  dull,  dismal,  damnable  old  story,'  over 
and  over  again." 

After  referring  to  special  cases  of  young  men  who 
had  become  bankrupt  in  pocket  and  health,  belonging 
to  respectable  families,  bank  clerks  and  shopmen, 

259 


260  RESULTS   OF   DRINK. 

every  one  of  whom  traced  their   ruin  to  City  and 
West-End  drinking-saloons,  he  says: 

"  Now  that  I  have  passed  a  term  of  penal  servitude  as  a  consequence 
of  similar  folly,  I  seem  scarcely  able  to  understand  in  what  the  horrible 
fascination  consists  which  keeps  men  day  after  day  lolling  over  a  refresh- 
ment public-house  bar.  The  habit  is  confined  to  no  class:  mechanics, 
merchants,  professional  men,  clerks,  shopkeepers,  and  laborers  are  taking 
that  wretched  road.  The  convict  prisons  are  crowded  with  men  who, 
had  they  been  abstainers  from  strong  drink,  would  have  been  to-day  the 
support  and  comfort  of  happy  families.  What  their  condition  is,  only 
those  who  have  experienced  the  horrors  of  prison-life  can  understand ; 
what  the  condition  of  many  of  their  families  is,  is  too  fearful  to  con- 
template." 

It  is  useless  to  shut  one's  eyes  to  the  fact  that,  but 
for  the  drink  curse,  the  number  of  criminals  would 
be  so  small  that  at  least  two  thirds  of  the  convict 
prisons  would  be  empty.  The  chaplain  of  the  Clerk- 
enwell  House  of  Detention  keeps  an  elaborate  note 
of  the  cases  which  come  under  his  notice,  and  he 
finds  that  seven  ninths  of  the  cases  which  come  to  his 
prison  come  there  as  the  result  of  drink.  The  chap- 
lain of  a  prison  for  females  —  not  himself  an  abstainer, 
and  he  cannot  therefore  be  accused  of  partiality  to 
his  creed  —  states  from  his  note-book  that  out  of  one 
hundred  and  forty-six  persons  brought  to  the  prison 
in  five  days,  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  came  directly 
through  the  influence  of  drink.  People  can  verify 
these  statements  as  to  the  general  result  of  drinking 
by  a  fair  examination.  Let  me  quote  from  the  ex- 
convict's  letter: 

"  I  was  compelled  for  six  long  years  to  listen  to  family  histories,  to 
stories  of  crime  and  poverty,  wretchedness  and  horror.  It  was  with 
no  disposition  in  favor  of  total  abstinence  that  I  tried  to  probe  the  cause 
of  it.  I  had  never  been  a  teetotaler;  had  I  been  so,  I  should  never 
have  been  in  prison  myself.  But  stern  facts  which  came  to  my  knowl- 
edge day  by  day  forced  me  to  the  conclusion  that  a  very  large  propor- 
tion of  all  the  crime  and  all  the  poverty  in  the  land  is  the  direct  offspring 
of  intoxicating  drink. 


JUDGE  NOAH  DAVIS.  261 

"Many  of  them  inherited  the  vice  from  drunken  fathers  and  mothers. 
They  were  taught  to  sip  the  drink  in  their  babyhood,  and  took  it  from 
the  hands  of  mothers  who  had  stolen  the  money  with  which  to  purchase 
it.  I  learned  day  after  day,  from  the  admissions  of  these  criminals  them- 
selves, that  the  poverty,  ignorance,  and  want  of  proper  homes  had  been, 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  the  consequence  of  drink." 

It  seems  amazing  that  well-authenticated  facts  do 
not  move  the  people.  Our  own  judges  are  continu- 
ally testifying  to  the  crime  produced  by  drink;  yet 
how  little  do  the  great  bulk  of  the  people  feel  the 
pressure  of  such  terrible  facts.  A  committee  of  the 
House  of  Commons  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  re- 
porting in  1875,  states  that  out  of  28,289  commit- 
ments to  the  jails  of  the  provinces  of  Ontario  and 
Quebec  during  the  three  previous  years,  21,236  were 
committed  either  for  drunkenness  or  for  crimes  per- 
petrated under  the  influence  of  drink.  It  is  the  same 
everywhere.* 

If  hydrophobia  should  produce  in  this  country  one 
hundredth  part  of  the  crime,  poverty,  misery,  taxa- 
tion, and  the  multiplicity  of  evils  that  drink  does, 
there  would  not  be  a  living  dog  in  the  United  States 
in  six  months.  Every  lady  would  give  up  her  pet 
spaniel,  the  hunter  his  setter  and  pointer;  even  the 
very  watch-dogs  would  be  destroyed,  or  most  care- 
fully guarded  against  contagion. 

The  revelations  of  the  results  of  the  drinking  cus- 
toms are  appalling.  Let  us  take  a  few  well-authen- 
ticated facts.  We  read  statistics  of  pauperism,  lu- 
nacy, and  crime,  and  think  no  more  of  them  than  of 
a  number  of  figures  that  mean  nothing.  But  go 
where  the  shot  strikes.  Listen  to  the  cry  of  that 
little  girl  as  the  sound  rings  out  from  that  cellar. 

*  Read  Judge  Noah  Davis'  pamphlet  on  "  Intemperance  and  Crimes," 
from  which  I  have  taken  the  above  statement. 


262  AWFUL  REVELATIONS. 

Enter,  and  see  that  mere  child  of  seven  years  writh- 
ing under  the  heavy  blows  inflicted  with  a  large  strap 
by  a  brutal,  half-drunken  man ;  the  poor  little  creature 
striving  to  defend  herself,  the  blows  fall  alike  on 
head,  arms,  and  shoulders.  Will  a  father  beat  his  child 
so  young,  in  such  a  brutal  manner?  Perhaps;  but 
this  is  a  child  he  has  bought  from  a  drunken  mother, 
who  had  sold  her  for  half-a-crown  to  that  cruel, 
drunken  wretch,  and  who  had  spent  the  money  the 
same  day  in  drink. 

I  saw  an  interesting  little  girl  who  had  hip  com- 
plaint, whose  mother  had  sold  her  to  a  villanous 
tramp  for  two  pairs  of  stockings.  She  sold  the  stock- 
ings, and  got  drunk  with  the  proceeds.  There  is  a 
man  now  in  prison  whose  wife  lost  an  eye  some  time 
since  by  his  violence  when  drunk,  and  whose  only 
child  is  deformed  for  life  as  the  result  of  another 
drunken  fit.  He  is  now  confined  for  depriving  his  wife 
of  her  other  eye  when  they  were  both  drunk.  She  is 
blind,  he  in  prison,  and  the  child  is  a  cripple. 

A  woman  had  two  children  suffering  from  fever. 
One  morning  she  received  from  some  ladies  in  the 
neighborhood  all  that  had  been  prescribed  by  the 
doctor,  together  with  money  for  their  wants.  The 
ladies  went  in  the  evening  to  inquire  after  the  chil- 
dren, and  found  them  alone  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
induced  by  want  and  neglect.  On  being  searched 
for,  the  woman  was  found  drunk  in  a  neighboring 
tavern.  She  had  spent  the  money  and  then  sold  the 
articles  of  clothing,  given  in  charity,  for  drink.  All 
that  could  be  done  for  the  children  was  of  no  avail  — 
it  was  too  late.  In  the  night  the  ladies  left  her  when 
she  had  become  somewhat  sober,  she  making  all  sorts 
of  promises.  When  they  called,  the  next  forenoon, 


CANNOT   EXAGGERATE.  265 

they  found  the  little  corpses  lying  unstraightened 
where  their  spirits  had  left  them;  and  the  comforts 
their  hands  had  provided  a  few  hours  before  had  gone 
to  the  pawn-shop.  The  mother  was  again  drunk  in 
the  nearest  grog-shop. 

Tell  me  of  exaggeration  in  our  statements !  Talk 
of  enthusiasm,  fanaticism,  and  monomania  in  our  pro- 
test against  this  horrible  evil  and  its  cause !  Look  at 
these  facts!  Do  you  wish  any  more?  I  can  fill  this 
book  with  the  records  of  drink's  doings.  You  say 
they  are  among  the  lower  orders.  There  is  more  dif- 
ficulty in  arriving  at  definite  knowledge  of  cases  in 
the  so-called  upper  classes ;  for  while  the  poorer  seem 
to  live  very  much  out  of  doors,  and  accordingly  what 
they  do  is  known,  the  habits  of  the  other  classes  are 
so  covered  by  the  circumstances  of  their  position  that 
we  only  see  and  know  what  crops  out  on  the  surface. 

But,  oh,  the  revelations  that  come  to  me!  If  I 
should  give  you  letters  that  I  have  received  from 
mothers,  sisters,  wives,  and  daughters  of  education 
and  refinement,  —  ladies  belonging  to  the  aristocratic 
circles,  confiding  to  me  the  story  of  ruined  homes, 
broken  hearts,  tarnished  characters,  the  unnecessary 
sickness,  the  maniac's  death,  revealing  scenes  per- 
fectly appalling,  you  would  say  that  my  book  was  a 
volume  of  horrors,  and  yet  all  stern  truth  with  no 
exaggeration. 

Bulwer  says  that  "a  wicked  gentleman  who  has 
lost  caste  and  character  is  more  unreclaimable  than  a 
wicked  clown,  low  born  and  low  bred,  that  in  propor- 
tion to  the  loss  of  shame  is  the  gain  in  recklessness." 
A  shrewd  writer  has  said,  "  There  is  always  hope  for 
a  dull,  uneducated,  stolid  man,  led  by  accident  or 
temptation  into  guilt;  but  when  a  man  of  ability  and 


266  DRINK  IK  HIGH   LIFE. 

education  besots  himself  in  the  intoxication  of  dark 
and  terrible  excitements,  and  takes  impure  delight  in 
slimy  ways,  the  good  angel  abandons  him  forever." 
I  believe  it,  for  in  my  experience  I  have  found  such 
a  man  the  hardest  to  reach,  generally  the  most  des- 
perate and  reckless.  He  never  takes  his  self-wrought 
ruin  kindly;  he  cannot  lie  down  in  the  ditch  without 
shame  and  remorse;  he  has  neglected  opportunities, 
and  he  knows  it;  he  compares  the  thing  he  is  with 
what  he  was  and  might  be  but  for  his  folly;  he 
shrinks  with  disgust  from  himself;  he  gnashes  his 
teeth  at  the  retribution  that  must  come,  and  takes  his 
punishment  with  rage  in  his  heart.  Oh,  yes,  it  is 
true  in  morals  as  it  is  in  physics:  the  farther  a  man 
falls  the  deeper  he  goes. 

Here  is  an  extract  from  a  letter,  written  by  a  lady 
moving  in  the  higher  circles  of  society,  who  refers  to 
a  well-known  doctor  of  divinity  for  proof  of  the  state- 
ment should  it  be  needed.  After  giving  some  details 
of  the  course  of  intemperance  into  which  a  gentleman 
of  education  and  fortune,  occupying  a  high  social  posi- 
tion, had  fallen,  and  the  distress  and  weary  agony  of 
his  wife,  she  writes: 

"Mary's  heart  broke.     I  was  with  her  during  her  last  illness,  and 

never  have  I  seen  such  patience  as  she  manifested.    S was  gone  nearly 

all  the  time,  and  when  he  did  come  we  were  obliged  to  lock  the  doors, 
and  sometimes  to  send  for  help  to  keep  him  off,  for  he  was  furious  when 
drunk,  and  once,  when  in  drink,  had  fearfully  whipped  his  sweet  little 
girl.  During  her  sickness  I  never  went  on  my  knees  that  I  did  not  pray 
God  most  fervently  to  take  her  to  Himself.  At  last  she  died.  Having 
laid  her  out,  we  locked  up  the  room,  and  left  her  in  the  chamber  of 

death.     That  night  S came  home  seemingly  sober,  and  requested  us 

to  let  him  see  his  wife.  So  deceived  were  we  by  his  well-assumed  mel- 
ancholy, that  we  gave  him  the  door-key.  In  about  ten  minutes  after  he 
left  us,  a  servant  came  to  the  door  weeping,  and  begged  us  to  go  and 
'take  master  away,  for  lie  was  beating  mistress.'  We  sent  some  of  the 
gentlemen  up.  After  they  came  back,  we  went  to  see  what  he  had  done, 


TERRIBLE   REVELATIONS.  267 

and  there  was  my  precious  Mary,  his  own  wife,  who  had  never  given 
him  an  unkind  word,  lying  on  the  floor ;  all  her  burial  clothes  torn  from 
off  her  body,  and  that  bruised  and  mangled  to  such  a  degree  that  the 
ladies  in  the  room  were  unable  to  endure  such  a  scene.  Her  old  nurse 
and  I  stayed  and  shrouded  her  again,  and  her  body  was  in  such  a  condi- 
tion as  to  compel  an  immediate  burial.  The  servant  who  saw  him  said 
that  he  dragged  her  from  the  bed  on  which  she  lay,  and  stamped  on  her, 

and  then  dashed  her  against  the  furniture.     In  a  few  months  after  S 

died  drunk." 

My  heart  sickens  as  I  turn  to  these  letters  which 
I  have  preserved.  Such  revelations!  not  fiction,  not 
romance,  but  fact,  and  all  produced  by  the  use  of  that 
which,  to  say  the  best  we  can  for  it,  is  but  a  luxury. 
It  is  easy  to  talk  of  exaggeration,  but  I  wish  those 
who  doubt  the  reality  of  such  outrages  could  only 
once  see  for  themselves. 

I  venture  to  give  a  few  extracts  from  over  three 
hundred  letters  from  the  victims  of  this  terrible  evil. 
I  have  selected  only  those  where  the  statements  could 
be  corroborated,  and  where  the  correspondents  were 
reliable,  and  I  give  them  as  genuine.  Those  who 
did  not  sign  their  name  sent  me  cards  of  reference. 
Where  I  put  initials  I  have  the  names.  Some  held 
interviews  with  me  after  I  had  received  their  letters. 
I  have  some  communications  well  attested,  but  so  fear- 
fully horrible  that  I  refrain  from  publishing  them.^  A 
gentleman  writes  me  from  Pittsburgh,  signed  W.  K. : 

"In  the  year  18 — ,  a  clergyman  belonging  for  some  time  to  the  Meth- 
odist Church,  one  whom  I  had  often  heard  preach,  cut  his  throat  from 
ear  to  ear  in  my  parlor  in  broad  daylight.  I  was  at  tea  in  another  room. 
When  I  came  into  the  parlor,  to  my  utter  astonishment  he  had  the  knife 
in  his  throat,  up  to  the  handle.  I  attempted  to  stop  him,  and  very  nar- 
rowly escaped  being  killed  myself.  This  man  had  been  highly  respected 
for  piety  and  talents,  but  he  fell  by  indulging  in  the  moderate  drinking 
of  ale,  until  he  became  a  drunkard.  Remorse  of  conscience  drove  him 
to  the  horrid  act.  He  seldom  drank  anything  but  ale." 

Ale  is  a  soporific  and,  according  to  authority,  is  a 
"  good  thing  to  sleep  on." 
17 


268  FEARFUL   EXPERIENCES. 

A  most  respectable  gentleman  writes  from  Ohio: 

"  As  a  reminiscence  for  useful  reference,  allow  me  to  narrate  to  you 

in  short  the  life  and  death  of  an  old  friend  of  mine  who  lived  in  W 

County,  in  this  State.     His  name  was  B C ,  a  brother  of  J 

C ,  who  at  one  time  was  one  of  the  Supreme  Judges  of  O . 

B was  one  of  the  ablest  jurists,  and  for  many  years  a  partner  of  one 

of  the  first  lawyers  in  the  State.  He  began  to  drink  in  early  life,  when 
it  was  fashionable  for  everybody,  from  the  clergy  down  to  the  common 
laborer,  to  '  take  a  glass.'  He  continued  to  circulate  around  on  the  edge 
of  the  whirlpool,  until  he  '  couldn't  quit.'  He  became,  with  his  mighty 
mind  and  masterly  legal  attainments,  a  great  sot.  At  one  time,  I  heard 
him  make  one  of  the  most  cogent  legal  arguments  I  ever  listened  to; 
and  he  said,  after  he  got  through,  that  while  he  was  speaking  he  could 
see  toads  squatting  in  the  corners  and  along  the  walls  of  the  court-room, 
and  serpents  were  coiling  all  around  before  his  eyes,  and  hissing  in  his 
ears,  while  all  manner  of  imps  were  dancing  about  in  the  air,  spouting 
their  blue  breath  in  his  face.  Such  is  but  a  brief  description  of  things  im- 
agined, which  he  said  tormented  him  so  that  he  could  hardly  speak.  And 
yet  he  recounted  the  evidence  and  applied  the  law  and  reasoning  to  the 
facts  in  the  most  masterly  style,  and  more  so  than  his  partner,  who  was 
with  him  in  the  case.  How  can  a  man  reason  thus  in  delirium  tremens? 

"  A  few  weeks  after  this,  the  unfortunate  inebriate,  in  the  endeavor  to 
climb  the  stairway  to  his  office,  made  a  false  step  near  the  top,  and  fell 
backwards  to  the  ground,  the  stairway  being  outside  the  house.  He  was 
taken  up,  and  conveyed  to  the  house  of  his  brother,  the  judge,  where  he 
died  in  a  week  or  two  in  that  horrible  state  of  mind  and  body  —  mania-a- 
potu.  During  his  illness,  he  was  attended  by  the  kind  hand  of  his 
amiable  brother  and  tender  friend.  His  brother  he  would  often  curse. 
Had  it  not  been  for  drink,  this  man  of  excellent  mind  and  manly  dispo- 
sition might  have  been  yet  living,  an  honor  to  his  name,  and  of  useful- 
ness to  his  kind.  He  was  a  bachelor. 

"  Yours,  &c.,  R.  R.  M ." 

I  received  the  following  from  a  gentleman  in 
Canada: 

"  My  father  is  a  Scotchman  by  birth.  He  received  the  education  of  a 
gentleman's  son  in  his  native  land;  his  abilities  were  of  the  highest 
order.  He  was,  from  his  boyhood,  of  a  fiery  temper,  and  veiy  easily 
excited;  of  a  majestic  mien,  and  a  great  favorite.  He  married,  emi- 
grated to  this  country,  purchased  a  farm  and  settled  on  it,  living  there 
for  twelve  years  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace,  happiness,  comfort,  and  pros- 
perity. He  at  length  thought  that  farming  brought  too  meagre  profits, 
and  accordingly  embarked  in  the  mercantile  business,  dealing  in  liquors 
by  wholesale  and  retail.  He  began  to  drink,  and  in  less  than  two  years 


A  "GENTLEMAN"  DRUNKARD.  269 

became  a  confirmed  drunkard,  and  has  been  so  for  the  past  eighteen 
years,  becoming  a  miserable  wreck.  The  influence  of  liquor  upon  his 
mind  defies  description,  as  it  always  produced  a  maddening  effect.  It 
never  succeeded  in  destroying  his  locomotion,  or  laying  him  in  the  gutter, 
or  numbing  his  tongue ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  it  always  gave  buoyancy  and 
strength  to  his  step,  elasticity  to  his  feet,  and  eloquence  to  his  tongue ; 
while  at  the  same  time  it  made  him  a  fiend  to  his  own  family,  and  par- 
ticularly to  his  wife. 

"  Many  times  had  my  poor  mother  to  flee  out  of  her  bed  in  her  night- 
dress, in  the  coldest  winter  nights,  and  take  refuge  in  the  horse-stables 
and  barns,  and  as  frequently  did  her  children  throw  her  clothing  out  of 
the  windows  of  her  bedroom,  to  protect  her  body  from  the  chilling  north- 
ern blasts  of  the  Canadian  winters.  On  one  occasion  he  locked  her  in 
her  room,  locked  all  the  doors  of  the  house,  and  then  swore  to  my  sister, 
who  was  about  seven  years  old,  that  if  she  should  make  any  noise  while 
he  was  whipping  her  mother,  that  he  would  murder  her.  He  then  re- 
tired to  the  room  where  my  mother  was  incarcerated,  and  dealt  her  a 
ponderous  blow,  which  laid  her  upon  the  carpet,  weltering  in  her  blood. 
He  then  leaped  upon  her  with  his  feet,  pounded  her  face  until  it  was 
black,  and  the  blood  oozed  out  of  her  ears,  nose,  and  mouth ;  when  provi- 
dentially a  neighbor,  hearing  the  alarm,  burst  open  the  door,  and,  shall  I 
say,  saved  my  mother's  life. 

"  After  he  was  released  from  the  influence  of  alcohol,  and  saw  what 
he  had  done  to  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  whom  he  loved  sincerely,  he  went 
almost  distracted.  For  two  months  did  he  nurse  her,  and  tried  his  very 
best  to  restore  her  face  to  its  natural  appearance,  but,  alas !  it  could  not 
be  effected ;  she  bears  at  this  moment  a  long  and  deep  scar  upon  her 
brow,  done  by  the  hand  of  her  husband  while  under  the  influence  of 
damning  drunkenness. 

"  But  notwithstanding  the  fearful  and  tragical  end  that  this  revel  had 
almost  led  to,  it  was  soon  forgotten.  The  appetite  was  too  strong,  too 
deeply  rooted  within  him  to  be  resisted,  or  to  be  conquered,  and  a  multi- 
plicity of  engagements,  or  at  least  pretended  engagements,  calling  him 
frequently  into  company,  revel  has  succeeded  revel  —  spree  has  succeeded 
spree ;  and  chasing  wife  and  family  with  deadly  instruments,  and  the  de- 
struction of  household  furniture,  have  followed  as  necessary  consequences 
during  these  last  years. 

"  My  two  brothers  left  him  at  the  age  of  eighteen  years,  whom,  on  ac- 
count of  their  being  under  age,  he  endeavored  to  prosecute,  but  he  could 
not,  in  consequence  of  his  having  abused  them.  I  left  at  the  age  of 
seventeen.  I  shall  never  forget  that  gloomy  morning.  It  was  the  morn- 
ing that  I  was  roused  out  of  my  slumbers  by  the  rattling  of  the  carriage- 
wheels,  and  the  galloping  of  the  horses  up  to  the  front  door.  I  heard  my 
father  burst  into  the  house,  ripping  and  tearing  like  a  madman,  because 
the  family  were  not  out  of  their  beds  to  salute  him  on  his  arrival  home. 
He  went  into  my  mother's  room,  and  seized  her  by  the  throat  in  her  bed. 


270  MADNESS   FROM   DRINK. 

When  I  heard  her  cry  for  help,  I  bounded  out  of  my  bed,  and  ran  down- 
stairs, and  rushed  into  my  mother's  apartment,  and  took  hold  of  him  be- 
hind his  back,  and  by  some  supernatural  strength  prostrated  him  upon 
the  floor.  As  soon  as  mother  made  her  escape,  I  made  mine,  although 
pursued  by  father  and  his  gun,  and  left  a  last  adieu  to  my  father's  abode, 
and  have  since  directed  my  attention  to  a  profession. 

"His  destruction  of  property  has  been  exceedingly  great.  He  has 
squandered  thousands  of  pounds  in  drink ;  drove  horses  to  death ;  broke 
carriages;  consigned  the  most  valuable  clothing  of  the  family  to  the 
flames ;  destroyed  household  furniture,  such  as  dishes,  chairs,  sofas,  side- 
boards, stoves,  clocks ;  and  all  of  which  he  would  immediately  replace, 
as  soon  as  he  would  get  sober,  without  counting  the  cost. 

(Signed)  "  A.  M.  K ." 

I  had  an  interview  with  the  writer,  now  following 
a  profession  in  Canada. 

The  next  extract  is  from  a  very  long  letter  written 
by  a  friend,  relating  to  circumstances  well  known  in 
the  county  where  he  resided. 

"  Enos  Cook  resides,  or  his  family  does,  upon  the  mountain  side, 
about  a  mile  east  from  our  village,  and  far  elevated  above  it  in  a  wretched 
hovel  built  of  logs  (a  dreary,  lonesome,  desolate  place),  he  has  been 
for  many  years  the  miserable  victim  of  intemperance.  His  family,  poor 
and  destitute,  have  been  the  subjects  of  want  and  misery,  of  destitution 
and  untold  suffering,  for  many  a  sorrowful  year.  Yet  they  bore  it  in 
silence,  and  submitted  without  a  murmur  to  the  blows  and  brutal  violence 
of  the  oft-infuriated  husband  and  father,  to  the  present  occasion. 

"  His  wife,  one  of  the  most  harmless,  inoffensive  persons,  has  all  this 
time  supported  the  family  by  hard  work,  away  from  home,  at  washing, 
house-cleaning,  etc.  (as  all  his  earnings  went  into  the  liquor  dealers' 
hands),  often  having  to  leave  her  little  children  at  home  alone,  miles 
from  her  work ;  yet  she  murmured  not.  And  when  her  husband  came 
home  in  a  rage  from  liquor,  she  as  silently  permitted  him  to  devour  or 
waste  the  whole  of  the  proceeds  of  her  labor,  as  she  dared  say  or  do 
not! ling  to  offend  him.  He  has  even,  on  many  occasions,  earned  from 
home  such  of  the  articles  of  her  earnings  as  were  available  to  him,  and 
exchanged  them  for  liquor  with  the  heartless  rum-seller,  leaving  her 
and  her  children  in  utter  destitution.  To  such  treatment  the  woman  has 
submitted  for  years. 

"  This  season  lias  been,  if  possible,  worse  than  former  ones.  She  has 
been  beaten  frequently  and  dragged  from  the  house,  and  on  one  occasion 
for  several  rods  over  the  stony  ground,  for  endeavoring  to  prevent  him 
from  murdering  her  son.  On  Thursday  last,  being  destitute  of  liquor, 


DESTRUCTION  OF  PROPERTY.         273 

he  collected  from  the  mountain  a  quantity  of  pine  knots  (such  as  are 
used  for  kindling  fires),  and  took  them  to  the  village  and  procured  liquor. 
He  then  went  to  work  and  made  a  couple  of  splint  brooms,  for  which  he 
procured  two  bottles  of  liquor  on  Friday.  Returning  home  intoxicated, 
he  secreted  one  out  of  doors,  went  into  the  house  and  demanded  of  his 
wife  something  to  eat.  She  told  him  she  had  nothing  in  the  house,  when 
he  struck  her  a  blow  that  felled  her  from  her  chair  almost  senseless  on 
the  floor,  and  fell  to  kicking  her  most  inhumanly.  When  she  was  able 
to  speak,  she  intimated  that  she  would  go  to  the  poor-master  for  relief 
from  this  brutality,  but  this  only  enraged  him  the  more,  and  added  to  the 
blows  and  kicks  she  had  already  received. 

"  When  his  bottle  was  exhausted,  forgetting  what  he  had  done  with  the 
other,  he  demanded  it.  The  woman  told  him  she  knew  nothing  of  it, 
when  he  turned  to  his  daughter,  about  twelve  years  old,  and  ordered  her 
to  get  his  bottle  or  he  would  kill  her.  Alarmed  for  her  life,  the  girl  com- 
menced looking  about  the  room,  but  not  finding  it,  the  madman  seized 
her  by  the  throat  and  was  strangling  her  to  suffocation,  when  the  mother 
endeavored  to  prevail  on  him  to  desist.  He  then  let  go  of  the  daughter, 
seized  his  axe  and  flew  after  his  wife,  but  she  had  escaped  out  of  doors 
just  in  time  to  prevent  him  from  burying  it  in  her  brain.  He  did  not 
pursue  her,  but  raged  about  the  room,  striking  his  axe  into  the  floor  and 
threatening  to  murder  the  children.  The  few  old  chairs  and  all  the  fur- 
niture they  had  were  smashed  to  pieces.  He  then  opened  a  box  contain- 
ing all  the  clothing  she  or  the  children  had,  tramped  upon  the  contents, 
and  then  kicked  them  into  the  fire. 

"  In  the  mean  time  the  woman  went  to  the  poor-master,  and  he  told 
her  he  would  do  something  next  day.  Toward  night  she  ascended  the 
mountain,  and  silently  drew  near  her  wretched  home  to  learn  the  fate  of 
her  children.  She  heard  her  husband  raving  and  swearing  that  when 
ghe  returned  he  would  maul  her  so  that  she  could  not  get  to  the  village 
again.  Her  youngest  child,  just  old  enough  to  walk,  was  outside  the 
house.  She  seized  it,  and  taking  the  miserable  rag  from  her  own  shoul- 
ders, she  wrapped  it  up  and  retraced  her  steps  to  a  neighbor's  house, 
where  she  spent  the  night  of  Friday. 

"Next  morning,  his  liquor  being  gone,  he  having  found  the  other 
bottle  and  drank  the  contents,  he  took  two  fowls,  which  had  been  given  his 
wife  for  her  labor,  and  carried  them  away.  One  he  sold  to  a  liquor- 
dealer,  and  raffled  away  the  other  to  another  one. 

"On  Saturday,  toward  night,  in  the  absence  of  her  husband,  the 
woman  ventured  home.  But  on  his  approach  she  retired,  and  when  the 
officers  went  to  arrest  him,  where  was  she?  Gone  to  the  village?  No. 
She  had  token  refuge  among  the  cliffs  on  the  bleak  mountain-side.  Be- 
neath a  shelving  rock,  upon  that  cold  Saturday  night,  she  and  her  infant 
were  found,  where  she  had  gathered  a  few  sticks  and  had  succeeded  in 
lighting  a  fire,  thinking  there  to  pass  the  night.  This  night  would  have 
been  her  last  had  not  the  officers  told  her  to  return  to  her  house,  as  they 


274  THE   RUINED   MECHANIC. 

had  secured  him  and  would  protect  her.    He  was  taken  to  Kingston  jail 
on  Sunday. 

"On  that  afternoon  I  went  up  to  see  the  family,  and  the  scene  ex- 
ceeded my  worst  anticipations.  The  door,  torn  from  its  hinges,  was 
leaning  up  to  its  place  without  being  much  protection  from  the  cold 
wind,  which  around  that  pile  of  logs  shrieked  its  shrill  requiem  over 
domestic  happiness  destroyed;  and  although  the  sun  was  still  shining, 
all  was  darkness  within,  save  the  feeble  flashes  of  a  scantily  fed  fire. 
There  was  not  a  window  in  the  house,  or  any  aperture  through  which 
light  could  find  admittance  except  at  the  doorway.  The  mother,  with 
her  infant  at  her  breast,  and  three  other  small  children,  were  occupying 
the  remnants  of  the  broken  chairs.  When  my  eyes  had  become  regu- 
lated to  the  room,  I  saw  that  there  was  nothing  in  it,  save  the  axe,  the 
empty  box,  a  broom,  an  apology  for  a  table,  and  two  miserable  bunks 
covered  with  old  carpeting  and  rags.  Such  are  the  doings  of  rum,  and 
such  the  home  of  the  poor  drunkai-d  and  his  family. 

(Signed)  "G.  A.  D." 

The  gentleman  who  wrote  the  foregoing  letter  was 
well  known  to  me. 

I  now  quote  from  a  letter  sent  me  by  a  gentleman 
of  New  York,  relating  to  a  case  in  Albany. 

"A  worthy  mechanic,  I  think  a  cooper  by  trade,  had  an  interesting 
family,  a  fond  wife  and  three  children.  For  a  long  time  he  was  indus- 
trious, frugal,  and  domestic  in  his  habits.  He  was  enticed  from  his 
usual  path  of  virtue  to  a  grog-shop,  by  his  companions;  and  from  that 
time  day  by  day  he  frequented  that  charnel-house  of  destruction,  until 
he  became  an  habitual  drunkard.  Night  after  night  he  would  leave  his 
family,  and  come  home  late,  a  perfect  sot.  His  wife  expostulated  and 
did  everything  in  her  power  to  reclaim  him,  but  in  vain;  he  soon 
became  lost  to  all  obligations  to  his  family.  He  was  frequently  so  drunk 
that  he  could  not  reach  his  home  until  his  poor  wife  had  left  her  abode 
and  her  helpless  children  in  search  of  him,  and  by  the  aid  of  friends  had, 
night  after  night,  brought  him  home  a  drunken  sot.  One  cold  winter 
evening,  carousing  with  his  bad  associates,  he  left  them,  and  in  attempt- 
ing to  reach  his  room  he  missed  his  way,  and  to  find  shelter  he  stumbled 
into  an  old  hovel  on  Pearl  Street,  the  basement  of  which  was  the  usual 
retreat  for  the  stray  hogs  of  the  city.  In  this  filthy  abode  this  poor 
creature  made  his  bed  for  the  night.  Not  reaching  his  home,  late  at 
night  his  wife,  with  a  friend,  started  in  pursuit  of  him.  After  visiting 
the  dens  he  usually  frequented,  they  gave  up  the  search  in  despair.  The 
next  morning  they  continued  their  search,  and,  sad  to  relate,  they  found 
the  mangled  body  of  this  once  fond  husband  and  doting  father,  half 
eaten  up  by  this  herd  of  swine,  with  whom  he  had  unconsciously  taken 
shelter  from  the  inclement  storm.  H.  C ,  7  G St." 


CHAPTEK   XIX. 


FOOTPRINTS   OF    RUM.  —  STORIES    OF    RUINED    HOMES 
AND   BROKEN   HEARTS    (CONTINUED). 

A  Cry  from  Connecticut  —  Drunkenness  worse  than  Death  —  Five  Days 
with  Delirium  Tremens  —  Hope  deferred  —  The  Drunkard's  Adopted 
Child  —  The  Murdered  Babe  —  The  Wife  shielding  the  Murderer,  only 
to  be  murdered  herself  —  The  Murderer's  Suicide  —  Last  Scenes  in  the 
Domestic  Tragedy  —  The  Drunkard  and  his  Dead  Wife  —  The  Drunken 
Clergyman  preaching  Old  Sermons  —  Stealing  Postage-Stamps  to  buy 
Rum  —  Another  Clergyman  ruined  by  Drink  —  An  Unfeeling  Father 

—  Stealing  his  Little  Boy's  Shoes  to  buy  Drink  —  The  Drunkard's  Cry 

—  Pity  for  the  Victims  —  A  Blasted  Life  —  The  Drunkard's  "  Ode  to 
the    Departing  Year"  —  "What   of  the   Ship?"—  The   Redeemed 
Man's  Narrative  —  Evils  of  Social  Drinking  —  Bitter  Recollections  — 
Maddening  Desire  for  Drink  —  What  is  to  be  done?  —  The   Dram- 
Shops  of  Birmingham  —  Sunday  Drinking  —  Terrible  Results. 


is  not  a  commonwealth  but  has 
felt  in  many  homes  the  terrific  curse 
of  rum.  Homes  blighted  by  its  deso- 
lation are  countless.  Out  from  Con- 
necticut, that  "  land  of  steady  habits," 
comes  this  wailing  cry.  It  takes  the 
deepest  suffering  to  call  forth  the  an- 
guish of  woman's  loving  heart: 

"  I  have  never  known  but  one  sorrow.  My  father,  a  sister,  and  a 
brother  have  left  me,  and  gone  to  their  last  home.  I  thought  that  was 
sorrow  ;  but  how  mistaken  I  was  !  My  loss  was  their  gain.  But  I  have 
a  sorrow,  a  grief,  a  great  grief;  and  it  bends  me  down,  and  sometimes  I 

275 


276  IS   THERE   NO   HELP? 

feel  that  it  is  insupportable.  I  have  friends  that  know  in  part,  and  they 
say  with  one  voice,  '  Leave  the  cause.'  I  ask  them,  '  Can  I  forget,  if  I 
leave?  '  I  cannot  make  them  understand  how  I  can  love  a  man  that  has 
forgotten  to  respect  himself.  Poor  man!  nature  has  clone  much  for  him, 
and,  with  an  education  that  might  have  helped  him  through  life  pleas- 
antly, all  has  been  wasted,  so  far.  He  is  but  thirty-three  years  old,  and 
yet  many  have  been  the  nights  that  I  have  sat  over  him  anxiously 
watching  and  fearing  lest  he  should  never  wake  again,  and  —  I 
shudder  when  I  think  of  it!  —  for  five  days  I  nursed  and  watched  him 
through  delirium  tremens.  I  let  no  one  but  his  father  see  him.  How  we 
both  lived,  God  only  knows,  for  he  thought  me  an  enemy. 

"At  one  time  after  that  he  became  a  Son  of  Temperance ;  but  through 
his  acquaintances  he  fell.  He  was  pleasing,  and  young  men  liked  his 
company,  and  when  invited  he  could  never  say  '  No ; '  and  now  he 
doesn't  seem  to  care  what  people  say  or  think.  Oh,  he  has  fallen,  fallen 
so  far!  So  many  times  he  has  promised  he  would  never  taste  again, 
and  I  believe  he  means  it  when  he  tells  me  so;  but  lie  has  not  power  to 
resist  temptation.  He  sometimes  says  none  care  for  him,  —  he  is  of  no 
consequence.  I  am  afraid  I  have  lost  what  influence  I  ever  did  have. 
We  are  told,  '  Hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick.'  I  feel  it  is  too 
true ;  for  surely  my  heart  is  sick,  and  were  it  not  for  the  consolation  I 
find  in  the  religion  of  Jesus,  I  should  long  ere  this  have  despaired.  Oh, 
that  he  could  be  saved!  Can  there  be  any  help?  His  precious  soul, 
what  will  become  of  that?  If  there  is  any  advice  you  can  give  me  for 
his  benefit,  no  matter  what  it  may  be,  it  shall  be  followed  as  far  as  lies 
in  my  power.  What  would  not  a  woman  do  for  her  husband?  And  I 
have  a  little  son,  my  only  child,  just  ten  years  old;  and  oh,  how  I 
tremble  for  him  lest  he  will  follow  his  father's  example !  He  is  a  child 
quick  and  impulsive,  and  fond  of  his  father,  and  has  many  times  asked 
why  he  can't  drink  beer,  if  his  father  does.  Oh,  dear  sir,  you  can't 
know  the  anguish  of  a  heart  lacerated  as  mine  has  been ;  but  I  know  you 
can  feel  for  a  poor  bleeding  heart,  and  so  I  have  trespassed  on  your  time 
and  patience.  I  beg  you  will  pardon  me;  but  if  you  think  for  one 
moment  of  a  poor  man  falling  lower  and  still  lower,  I  believe  you  will 
both  pity  and  forgive  me.  M ." 

The  following  are  extracts  from  a  Philadelphia 
letter,  revealing  the  scenes  in  a  domestic  tragedy 
which  occurred  in  that  beautiful  city: 

"  Some  few  years  ago  I  was  in  business  at  No.  30  Market  Street,  at 

which  time  a  man  named  J C applied  to  me  for  work.     He  was 

quite  genteel  in  appearance,  and  I  gave  him  work,  which  was  satisfac- 
torily done.  For  some  time  I  continued  to  employ  him ;  but  he  seldom 
came  himself  for  or  with  his  jobs.  His  wife  was  in  the  habit  of  coming 


THE   ADOPTED   CHILD.  277 

to  the  store,  and  on  one  occasion  I  asked  her  why  John  did  not  himself 
bring  in  the  work,  when  she  reluctantly  told  me  of  her  fears  to  trust  him 
out,  if  it  could  be  avoided,  lest  in  his  weakness  of  habits  he  should  drink 
to  excess,  when  he  was  sure  to  abuse  her.  So  long  as  he  kept  from 
liquor,  however,  he  was  affectionate,  industrious,  and  as  good  a  husband 
as  any  woman  could  wish  for." 

After  relating  scenes  of  distress,  imprisonment, 
brutality  almost  beyond  belief,  nearly  murdering  his 
wife,  —  revelations  of  sickening  and  revolting  cruelty, 
—  he  writes : 

"  They  had  adopted  a  child,  and  John  was  veiy  fond  of  the  babe,  and 
his  wife  became  very  much  attached  to  it. 

"  He  left  home  one  morning  early,  came  back  about  eleven  o'clock ; 
he  was  drunk,  and  he  then  said  that  it  was  time  the  child  had  gone  after 
its  mother,  —  that  he  was  not  going  to  be  troubled  with  other  people's 
brats.  However,  he  soon  went  out  again,  and  did  not  return  home  until 
just  about  dusk.  When  he  staggered  up-stairs,  the  windows  in  the  room 
were  raised,  as  the  weather,  was  quite  warm.  His  wife  was  just  in  the 
act  of  lighting  the  lamp  as  John  went  over  to  the  settee,  upon  which  she 
had  just  laid  the  child.  Without  a  single  word,  he  picked  up  the  child 
and  threw  it  out  the  window.  The  woman  flew  down  the  stairs  to  the 
street,  and  there  she  found  the  babe :  it  was  dead ;  the  head  was  smashed. 
She  fainted  at  the  sight.  Oh,  it  was  horrible !  A  crowd  soon  collected. 
She  was,  with  the  child,  taken  into  the  house.  And  now  she  was  in  a 
dilemma :  her  husband  was  a  murderer,  and  yet  she  loved  him  still ;  for 
she  knew,  or  felt  then,  that  it  was  not  his  nature  to  commit  a  violent 
wrong,  only  when  his  action  was  controlled  by  rum.  She  therefore 
sought  by  stratagem  to  release  him  from  any  charge,  and  battled  a  little 
while  with  her  conscience,  and  then,  with  grief  and  sorrow  depicted  on 
her  countenance,  she  told  those  persons  around  her  that  she  had  been 
sitting  at  the  window  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  where  she  had  fallen 
asleep,  and  that  the  child  rolled  out  of  her  arms  and  fell  to  the  pave- 
ment. Unfortunately  for  her,  she  was  believed.  The  child  was  buried, 
and  there  was  nothing  afterward  said  about  it.  John  sometimes  spoke 
of  it,  but  never  without  bringing  tears  in  his  eyes.  She  believed  that  he 
never  forgave  himself  for  having  committed  the  murder." 

This  child  was  a  little  girl  six  months  old.  Some 
time  after,  the  poof  woman  was  compelled  to  separate 
from  him,  and  for  a  while  he  could  not  discover  her 
whereabouts.  One  Sunday  evening  the  gentleman 
who  writes  me  was  at  his  home  in  North  Fifth  Street, 


278  A   DOUBLE   MURDERER. 

when  the  man  called,  as  described  in  these  closing 
words  of  the  letter: 

"  He  appeared  to  be  sober,  and  upon  my  invitation  he  came  in.  After 
sitting  a  while,  he  apologized  for  calling  upon  me  on  Sunday,  but  he 
wished  to  know  if  his  wife  still  worked  for  me,  or  if  I  had  seen  her 
lately.  I  told  him  that  she  had  done  no  work  for  me  for  many  months, 
and  that  the  last  time  I  saw  her,  she  told  me  that  she  was  living  in  Jer- 
sey. He  then  said  that  he  met  her  in  the  street  the  night  before  (being 
Saturday  night),  and  that  she  would  not  speak  to  him ;  and  that  if  he 
could  find  her,  he  would  kill  her.  He  appeared  much  irritated.  I  then 
talked  to  him,  and  tried  to  convince  him  that  he  alone  was  in  fault ;  that 
if  he  would  only  entirely  abandon  the  use  of  rum,  that  there  was  no 
doubt  of  much  happiness  still  in  store  for  him.  I  made  use  of  every  ar- 
gument to  induce  him  to  become  a  sober  and  industrious  man.  I  offered 
him  every  encouragement  to  do  so,  by  promising  to  give  him  employ- 
ment, and  at  the  same  time  tried  to  convince  him  that  if  he  could  keep 
sober  and  industrious,  she  would  find  it  out,  and  would  be  glad  to  come 
back  to  him. 

"  I  suppose  he  stayed  with  me  for  an  hour,  and  before  he  left,  he  be- 
came softened,  and  promised  to  reform.  After  expressing  an  everlasting 
obligation  to  me,  he  left. 

"  On  the  following  Sunday,  about  noon,  I  was  walking  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  Exchange,  and  observing  a  crowd  around  a  bulletin- 
board  in  front  of  a  printing-office,  I  crossed  over,  and  judge  of  my  sur- 
prise when  I  read  as  follows  r '  Horrid  Murder !  Last  evening,  at  nine 

o'clock,  a  man  named  John  C ,  a  tailor  by  trade,  followed  his  wife 

into  a  house  in  Front  Street,  below  South  Street.  She  had  been  out  in 
the  streets  for  a  bucket  of  water ;  he  followed  her  up  into  the  third  story, 
when  he  stabbed  her  in  forty  different  places.  The  screams  attracted 
persons  to  the  spot ;  and  when  they  attempted  to  take  hold  of  him,  he 
with  a  long  knife  cut  himself  across  the  stomach,  and  died  in  a  few  min- 
utes, having  committed  a  double  murder.'  At  the  inquest  held  imme- 
diately afterward,  it  was  proved  that  he  was  under  the  influence  of  Rum.'1'1 

I  have  witnessed  scenes  that  have  haunted  me  for 
days.  In  company  with  a  friend,  I  once  called  on  a 
man  who  had  formerly  been  a  gentleman  of  position, 
but  who  was  now  living  on  an  annuity  of  $500  per  year 
—  a  comparative  pittance  saved  fro'm  the  wreck  of  his 
fortune.  His  wife  was  very  ill.  When  we  arrived, 
we  found  the  man  drunk,  sitting  by  the  fire  smoking, 
and  the  wife  lying  dead  on  the  miserable  pallet  in  the 


A  FRIGHTFUL   BLOW.  279 

room.  The  drunkard  was  making  a  great  noise,  and 
declaring  she  was  not  dead.  The  gentleman  with  me 
laid  his  hand  on  him,  and  said: 

"  Now,  you  keep  still ;  your  wife  lies  there  dead, 
and  I  will  not  permit  this  noise."  * 

The  drunkard  sprang  to  his  feet,  exclaiming: 

"  I'll  let  you  see  whether  she  is  dead  or  not." 

Before  we  could  prevent,  he  sprang  to  the  bedside, 
and  dealt  on  the  upturned  face  of  the  dead  woman  a 
terrific  blow  with  his  fist.  Oh,  I  heard  the  sound  of 
that  blow  for  weeks,  at  night  and  by  day ! 

Rev.  Charles  Garrett,  of  Liverpool,  tells  us  that  he 
saw  a  man,  under  whose  ministry  he  once  sat  with 
profit,  in  a  low  public-house,  with  his  face  blackened, 
preaching  some  of  his  old  sermons  to  degraded  men 
and  dissolute  women  for  twopence;  while  his  wife, 
refined,  educated,  and  delicate,  was  struggling  with 
the  newsboys  for  the  last  edition,  that  she  might  get 
bread  for  her  suffering  children. 

A  poor  creature,  half  naked,  was  dragged  from 
under  the  bench  of  a  music  hall,  who  proved  to  be  a 
clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  one  of  the 
best  Greek  scholars  in  the  United  Kingdom.  He  was 
taken  to  the  house  of  a  good  Samaritan,  and  kept  there 
four  weeks.  He  would  steal  postage-stamps  of  his 
benefactor  to  get  drink;  and  when  started  again  in 
life,  with  a  good  suit  of  clothes,  hat,  boots,  and  all 
necessary  for  respectability,  he  was  seen  ten  days 
after,  ragged  and  wretched,  asking  for  alms. 

A  gentleman  was  so  reduced  by  drink  as  to  bring 
his  aristocratic  wife  to  one  room.  No  furniture ;  a  heap 
of  rags  in  one  corner,  and  an  old  box  for  a  table. 
When  the  gentleman  whom  I  had  sent  visited  them, 
there  was  a  cup  of  weak  tea  and  a  bit  of  dry  bread  on 

*  See  Illustration,  page  295. 


280  A  "GENTLEMAN"  THIEF. 

the  box,  and  three  orange-boxes  turned  up  for  seats. 
There  were  the  wife  and  six  children;  the  youngest 
fourteen  days  old;  and  that  morning  the  husband  and 
father  had  stolen  the  last  blanket  they  had,  and  sold  it 
for  a  shilling.  Afterwards,  when  charity  had  helped 
the  family,  and  provided  his  poor  boy  with  shoes,  he 
stole  them  in  the  night,  and  got  drunk  with  the  pro- 
ceeds. He  considered  himself  so  much  the  gentleman, 
that  upon  his  complaining  of  having  nothing  to  do, 
when  a  situation  was  offered  him  as  conductor  on  a 
street-car,  he  refused,  alleging  that  he  never  would 
stoop  to  a  menial  occupation.  But  why  try  to  record 
cases  that  are  unrecordable  and  innumerable? 

How  many  of  the  victims  of  this  vice  are  strug- 
gling for  freedom !  how  earnestly  they  plead  for  help ! 
how  eager  they  are  to  lay  hold  of  any  straw  that  will 
help  to  save  them,  may  be  known  by  the  despairing 
cry  coming  up  from  the  depths.  Read  this : 

"  My  object  in  addressing  these  few  lines  to  you  is,  to  ask  if  you  can 
tell  me  how  or  by  what  means  I  am  to  do  away  with  the  excess  of  drink. 
My  medical  man,  knowing  my  habits,  distinctly  says  that  after  accus- 
toming myself  to  spirituous  and  other  liquors  for  so  many  years,  it  would 
be  my  death  to  give  them  up.  My  inclination  is  to  sweep  the  use  of 
them  away  altogether.  My  appetite  is  so  craving,  that  if  I  give  them 
up  for  one  day,  my  life  is  not  only  rendered  intolerable,  but  my  nervous- 
ness is  so  great,  GREAT,  as  to  completely  crush  out  my  inclinations  to  the 
pleasures  of  this  world. 

"  My  means  hitherto  have  been  sufficiently  ample  to  gratify  my  pas- 
sion, or  inordinate  appetite,  for  strong  drink ;  but  if  this  strong  drink  is 
indulged  in,  my  means  cannot  last.  Would  to  God  that  you  may  be  the 
instrument  enabling  me  to  trample  under  foot  drink  that  is  already  get- 
ting master  over  me!  I  shall  hear  (God  willing)  your  next  discourse; 
and  I  sincerely  hope  that  you  may  be  the  means  of  converting  a  poor, 
wretched,  and  intemperate  man." 

One  cry  among  thousands.  I  have  not  the  heart  to 
transcribe  them. 

How  thoroughly  we  often  condemn  the  drunkard, 


VERSES   BY  A  VICTIM.  283 

considering  him  only  reckless  and  wilful!  Some  may 
be  so;  but  did  we  know  all  the  struggles  and  yearn- 
ings to  do  better,  all  the  aspirations  in  the  lucid  mo- 
ments for  a  higher  and  nobler  life,  we  would  pity  the 
victims,  rather  than  denounce  them  as  reprobates. 
Young  men,  who  now  despise  the  drunkard  in  his 
weakness,  God  grant  you  may  never  be  enchained 
and  enslaved  by  the  fearful  appetite  which,  gratified, 
becomes  at  length  a  master-passion,  and  is  a  power 
that  can  never  be  understood  or  explained.  To  grat- 
ify it,  men  have  sacrificed  all  that  makes  life  desirable. 
Look  into  the  inner  heart  of  many  a  drunkard,  and 
you  will  pity  him. 

A  man  of  education,  with  whom  I  was  brought  in 
contact,  was  a  victim,  and  though  he  died  miserably, 
there  was  something  in  him  at  times  very  attractive. 
From  his  manuscript  in  my  possession  are  the  follow- 
ing portions  of  two  little  pieces  he  wrote.  I  omit 
several  stanzas,  and  begin  with  the  fifth,  upon  an 

"ODE  TO  THE  DEPARTING  YEAR. 

• 

"Old  Year!  what  hast  thou  taught  me? 
Old  Friend!  what  hast  thou  brought  me? 
What  good  or  ill  hast  wrought  me? 

Hath  bliss  o'er-balanced  pain? 
What  messages  art  bearing 
For  the  Eternal's  hearing, 
At  the  last  day's  appearing? 
Oh,  questions  wild  and  vain! 

Since  thy  dim  dawn,  Old  Year, 
How  much  of  hope  and  fear! 
How  many  a  bitter  tear 

Hath  fallen  from  sorrow's  eye! 
How  many  lithe  and  bright, 
Who  hailed  thee  with  delight, 
Have  bowed  before  Time's  might, 

And  laid  them  down  to  die ! 


284  THE   OLD   YEAR. 

Love  hath  been  changed  to  hate ; 
Friendship  to  formal  state ; 
Youth  —  with  its  dreams  elate 

Its  hopes  —  how  fondly  cherished! 
Hopes  of  renown,  of  fame, 
Its  ardent  toils  to  claim 
The  glory  of  a  name, 

Each  after  each  have  perished. 

Billow  of  time,  sweep  on! 
Go,  join  the  ages  gone, 
Where  earth's  sun  never  shone 

To  gild  the  shadowy  shore ; 
Farewell !  but  not  for  aye ; 
Thou'lt  meet  me  on  that  day 
When  sun  and  stars  decay, 

And  time  shall  be  no  more ! 

Yea,  when  the  trump  sounds  clear, 
When  all  the  dead  appear 
Before  the  Judge  severe ; 

When  heaven  and  earth  shall  flee; 
Oh,  then,  Old  Year!  I  feel 
Conviction  o'er  me  steal, 
That  thou,  for  woe  or  weal, 

Wilt  a  'swift  witness'  be! 

Dead!  the  Old  Year  hath  died! 
The  new  one  by  my  side 
Stands  in  his  jocund  pride, 

Heedless  of  woe  or  crime. 
New  Year!  what  dost  thou  bring 
Upon  thy  radiant  wing? 
Methinks  I  hear  thee  sing 

A  glad  '  To-morrow '  chime. 

To-morrow,  false  to-morrow! 
We  consolation  borrow, 
Whilst  suffering  present  sorrow, 

From  thy  perpetual  dawn! 
Time  —  bright  time  —  coming  ever; 
We  wait,  but  greet  thee  never! 
Fruitless  each  wild  endeavor 

To  have  thy  veil  withdrawn! 


A  "PACIFIC"  RHYME.  285 

Haste  onward,  Year,  new-born; 
I  laugh,  this  natal  morn, 
Thy  promises  to  scorn! 

I  scarcely  welcome  thee. 
Past  years  are  but  past  pains; 
My  years  but  galling  chains, 
Whose  scars  this  heart  retains ; 

And  such,  too,  thou  wilt  be! " 

He  was  at  my  house  at  the  time  when  the  country 
was  deeply  anxious  to  know  the  fate  of  the  steamer 
Pacific,  many  years  ago,  and  he  wrote  the  following. 
I  copy  from  his  manuscript,  which  lies  before  me, 
entitled, 

"WHAT  OF  THE  SHIP? 

OR,    SHIP  WRECKS  AND  MIND  WRECKS. 
A  'PACIFIC*  RHYME. 

"  There  is  gloom  in  each  eye,  and  a  tremor  of  lip, 
As  the  question  sounds  dolefully,  '  What  of  the  ship? ' 
Through  long  days  of  doubt  we  have  hoped,  but  in  vain, 
To  see  her  return  to  her  haven  again. 

And  through  each  dark  night  we  have  longed  for  the  morn, 
For  with  every  new  dawning  a  new  hope  was  born ; 
Loving  eyes  gaze  afar  through  the  mists  of  their  tears, 
But  no  trace  of  the  missing  '  Pacific '  appears. 
'  Ah,  she  yet  may  be  safe! '  lingers  still  on  the  lip; 
For  the  heart  of  affection  won't  give  up  the  ship. 

Ran  she  foul  of  a  berg?    Did  the  ice-fields  close  round  her? 
Did  she  drift  with  the  '  pack,'  or  at  once  did  she  founder? 
'Midst  the  fogs  of  '  the  Bank,'  and  the  waves'  ceaseless  dash, 
Was  there  heard,  when  ships  met,  a  wild  shriek  and  a  crash? 
And,  crippled  and  staggering,  still  ploughs  she  the  wave ; 
Straining  eyes  from  her  deck  seeking  aught  that  might  save? 
Or  in  some  sheltered  cove  of  the  isles  of  the  West, 
Hath  she  found,  from  the  strife  of  the  elements,  rest? 
Though  such  questions  may  hopefully  leap  from  the  lip, 
The  cry  of  suspense  is  still  —  •  What  of  the  ship? ' 

It  is  thus,  ever  thus,  when  some  palpable  woe 

In  the  great  city's  heart  robs  the  blood  of  its  glow; 

A  public  catastrophe  all  men  deplore, 

Though  they  heed  not  life's  tragedy  acting  next  door! 


286  WHAT   OF   THE   SHIP? 

Even  now,  while  anxiety,  anguish,  dismay, 
Is  felt  for  the  fate  of  the  steamship  away, 
There  is  near  us  full  many  a  once  gallant  bark, 
Drifting  hopelessly  on,  or  going  down  to  death's  dark! 
Vessels  straining  and  leaking ;  and  yet  scarce  a  lip 
Asks  hopefully,  anxiously  —  '  What  of  the  ship? ' 

For,  oh!  there  are  wrecks  on  humanity's  sea, 

More  fearful  than  any  on  ocean  can  be ! 

Once  with  far-streaming  pennons  they  floated  along, 

While  hope  lent  its  sunshine,  and  music  its  song ; 

Ever  cloudless  the  skies,  ever  azure  the  seas, 

Ever  favoring  the  currents,  and  joyous  the  breeze! 

Passion  hurried  them  on,  and  in  beauty's  bright  smile 

They  basked  on  the  shores  of  each  Eden-like  isle ; 

And  regarding  life's  voyage  but  pleasure's  gay  trip, 

They  abandoned  the  helm,  nor  thought  —  '  What  of  the  ship?' 

And  the  wine-cup  was  filled,  and  again  filled  the  bowl, 
Till  madness  crept  into  the  heart  and  the  soul. 
Care  was  flung  to  the  winds ;  hope  ne'er  whispered  again ; 
And  pleasure,  unmasked,  showed  the  visage  of  pain! 
On  rushes  the  doomed  one ;  no  pilot  to  guide, 
As  helmless,  and  chartless,  he  floats  o'er  the  tide ; 
Driving  on,  driving  on,  urged  by  passion's  wild  throes, 
Ruined  —  raving —  yet  onward  he  recklessly  goes. 
To  end  with  death's  draught,  what  began  with  a  sip; 
And  then  —  fearful  question  —  '  Oh !  what  of  the  ship? ' 

Aye,  what  of  the  ship?    They  are  scouring  the  wave, 

In  hope  the  '  Pacific  '  to  find  and  to  save ; 

But  what  of  the  human  wrecks?    Shall  we  not  send 

To  aid  them  in  peril  a  brother  —  a  friend? 

Forlorn  and  despised,  on  they  drift  to  their  doom, 

O'er  the  world's  raging  sea,  to  their  refuge  —  the  tomb! 

Let  them  feel  that,  though  tempest-tossed,  shattered,  distrest, 

Hope  its  torch  may  relume,  that  they  yet  may  be  blest,  — 

That  smiles  may  yet  play  upon  brow  and  on  lip, 

If  the  angel  of  Temperance  but  charters  the  ship! " 

"Now  read  a  few  words  from  one  who  has  escaped : 

"  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  a  long  account  of  my  career  in  the  ser- 
vice of  rum ;  were  I  to  do  so  it  would  fill,  not  one,  but  many  sheets.  I 
am  a  young  man,  just  entering  my  twenty-ninth  year;  thirteen  years 


BITTER  RECOLLECTIONS.  287 

ago  I  came  to  this  city  from  the  country  to  engage  in  business.  I  came 
poor  but  honest,  with  the  warning  voice  of  a  Christian  mother  (who  had 
gone  home  to  that  Saviour  whom  she  loved)  fresh  in  memory.  Would 
to  God  I  had  adhered  to  her  counsels ;  had  I  done  so,  rum  would  never 
have  crossed  my  lips.  For  nine  years  the  prospects  before  me  were  bright 
and  promising.  I  enjoyed  the  respect  and  confidence  of  my  employers, 
and  was  beloved  by  all  my  friends ;  but  a  dark  cloud  came  over  me, 
which  well-nigh  proved  my  destruction. 

"At  the  age  of  twenty-four,  the  seeds  sown  in  the  social  circle  began  to 
develop  themselves  (for  it  was  in  the  society  of  friends  that  I  was  first 
induced  to  touch  the  intoxicating  cup).  Oh,  how  little  do  friends  think 
when  offering  the  wine-cup  to  the  young  man,  that  they  may  be  planting 
in  him  the  seeds  of  a  destruction  that  will  ultimately  consign  him  to  an 
eternity  of  woe!  And  here  let  me  protest  with  yourself  against  that 
accursed  custom  of  social  drinking,  which  is  opening  wide  the  flood-gates 
of  destruction,  and  educating  young  men  by  scores  for  the  rum-shop. 
The  work  of  reformation  must  begin  at  home.  Let  men  become  teeto- 
talers, bring  up  their  sons  the  same,  and  banish  from  their  homes  all 
that  intoxicates ;  then  there  is  some  hope  for  the  rapid  advancement  of 
the  temperance  cause.  Take  from  the  rum-seller  his  customers,  and  he 
will  soon  abandon  a  business  that  fails  to  enrich  him.  Much  as  I  now 
love  the  temperance  cause,  and  firm  as  is  my  determination  to  adhere  to 
it,  looking  to  God  for  strength  to  sustain  me,  my  heart  bleeds  for  it  when 
I  look  around  and  see  the  stumbling-blocks  thrown  in  its  way  by  the 
so-called  politeness  of  society. 

"  From  the  social  circle  I  took  to  the  bar-room,  where  I  drank  with 
friends  and  acquaintances.  From  this  point  my  course  was  downward. 
I  would  give  worlds  to-day,  did  I  possess  them,  could  I  wipe  out  forever 
the  bitter  recollections  of  the  past.  For  more  than  four  years  rum  held 
me  its  slave.  In  that  time  I  lost  my  situation  in  business ;  all  my  friends, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  deserted  me,  and  gave  me  up  as  hopeless.  On 
my  last  spree  I  put  up  at  an  hotel,  kept  out  of  the  way  of  my  friends,  and 
for  four  weeks  was  constantly  drunk ;  ate  scarcely  anything,  drank  in- 
cessantly; sleep  was  to  me  a  stranger,  except  when  rendered  totally 
unconscious  by  liquor.  All  the  energies  of  my  waking  moments  were 
concentrated  in  the  maddening  desire  for  drink.  A  friend  found  me  at 
a  fortunate  moment ;  had  I  remained  a  day  longer  as  I  was,  the  hand 
that  pens  these  lines  would  this  day  be  mouldering  back  to  its  mother 
earth,  and  over  the  sod  that  covered  me  might  have  been  written  'A 
Drunkard's  Grave.' 

"My  friend  took  me  to  his  home  and  nursed  me  through  a  spell  of 
sickness  that  brought  me  to  the  brink  of  the  grave.  I  had  an  attack  of 
delirium  tremens.  I  need  not  detail  to  you  the  horrid  sufferings  I  passed 
through  —  you  know  too  well  its  horrors ;  your  own  description  of  this 
horrid  disease  is  true  to  the  letter,  for  I  have  experienced  it  all.  God 
mercifully  spared  my  life  and  restored  me  to  health.  Blessed  be  His 

18 


288  WHAT   IS   TO   BE   DCXN^J? 

name !  When  I  did  recover,  there  was  one  fixed  and  determined  resolu- 
tion formed,  —  that  was  to  cast  from  me  forever  the  firebrand  that  had 
been  consuming  my  very  vitals.  Five  months  have  now  rolled  round 
since  that  time  in  which  I  have  adhered  strictly  to  my  resolve." 

I  thank  God  for  the  rescued,  but  with  all  our  efforts 
the  disease  is  spreading;  and  being  so  constantly 
brought  in  contact  with  the  results,  must  be  my  ex- 
cuse, —  no,  I  will  not  erase  the  word  "  excuse,"  —  I 
need  no  excuse  for  speaking  or  writing,  —  the  iron 
has  entered  my  soul,  and,  as  sitting  in  my  library,  I 
recall  the  past  and  remember  the  scenes  I  have  looked 
upon,  the  harrowing  facts  that  have  come  under  my 
own  observation,  I  feel  ashamed  that  the  thought  of 
an  apology  entered  my  mind  for  one  moment. 

The  question  ought  to  arise,  What  is  to  be  done? 
What  can  I  do  to  stem  this  awful  tide?  To  quote 
the  words  of  an  eloquent  speaker: 

"Are  we  to  pass  from  chamber  to  chamber  of  this  great  temple  of 
abominations,  and  look  at  what  we  see,  as  though  it  were  a  cabinet  of 
curiosities,  and  gaze  coldly  on  all  these  scenes  of  shame  and  horror  that 
are  painted  on  its  walls ;  or  are  we  to  be  aroused  by  these  facts  merely 
to  talk  the  vague  language  of  philanthropy,  and  to  sigh  over  wretched- 
ness, while  we  do  not  so  much  as  lift  a  single  finger  to  help  the 
wretched?  " 

This  whole  country  ought  to  be  flooded  with  facts. 
Let  us  have  committees  formed  to  investigate.  Have 
we  no  men  of  standing  with  patriotism  sufficient  to 
move  them  to  some  sacrifice  that  they  may  ascertain 
more  fully  the  extent  of  this  evil?  In  Birmingham, 
England,  one  Saturday  night,  Major  Bond,  superin- 
tendent of  police,  had  thirty-five  public-houses  watched 
for  three  hours,  and  on  the  average  each  house  turned 
out  twenty-five  drunken  people,  —  or  a  total  of  eight 
hundred  and  seventy-five  within  three  hours.  The 


NO   EXAGGERATION.  289 

people  were  startled  by  such  a  revelation;  but  such  a 
disclosure  cannot  be  made  without  self-sacrifice. 

One  great  agency  in  obtaining  the  Sunday  Closing 
Bill  for  Scotland  was  the  persevering  efforts  of  in- 
dividuals to  obtain  just  such  statistics  with  regard  to 
Sunday  drinking;  and  when  the  police  failed  to  do 
the  work,  or  were  not  permitted  by  the  authorities, 
many  gentlemen  of  high  standing  took  the  work  upon 
themselves,  and,  in  spite  of  insults  from  those  inter- 
ested in  the  traffic,  continued  the  work,  and  scattered 
broadcast  the  results  of  their  efforts,  until  the  people 
were  frightened  at  the  revelation. 

These  are  the  statistics  that  the  people  are  forced 
to  accept.  The  cry  of  "  exaggeration  "  fails  to  affect 
them.  I  have  heard  men  ridicule  the  idea  of  50,000 
drunkards  dying  each  year  in  the  United  States.  Let 
us  have  a  thorough  investigation,  and  we  shall  find 
that  it  is  simple  fact. 

Dr.  Farre,  of  England,  who  has  evinced  the  oppo- 
site of  favor  to  teetotalers  and  to  teetotalism,  has 
confessed  to  53,000  annual  alcoholic  deaths  in  the 
United  Kingdom,  with  a  population  14,000,000  less 
than  in  the  United  States;  they  expend  140,000,000 
pounds  sterling  (or  about  700,000,000  dollars),  and 
we  $750,000,000,  with  our  greater  population,  every 
year  on  drink.  The  same  terrible  results  are  to  be 
seen  the  world  over. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

"  SECRETS  "   AND   "  TRICKS "   OF    THE   LIQUOR   TRADE. 
A   GLANCE  BEHIND    THE    SCENES. 

Rum  is  Rum  the  World  over  —  Drunken  Mohammedan  is  said  to  have 
"gone  to  Jesus"  —  Speech  of  Canon  Farrar  —  Ludicrous  Side  of  the 
Question  —  The  Connoisseurs  of  Liquors  —  Wine-Drinkers  hum- 
bugged —  The  Secret  of  Success  in  the  Manufacture  of  Liquors  — 
—  Ingredients  —  How  "Imported  Cognac  Brandy"  is  made  —  How 
Schiedam  Schnapps  and  Common  Gin  are  made  —  Champagne  Re- 
ceipt—  "  Native  Catawba  Wines  "  made  without  Grapes  —  "  Fine  Old 
Port"  —  Receipts  for  making  Porter — "Ale"  good  to  sleep  on;  how 
made  —  To  the  Uninitiated  —  How  to  bottle  neatly — Sugar  of  Lead 
as  a  Sweetener  —  Filthiness  no  Hindrance  to  the  Drinker  —  The 
Effect  of  these  Revelations — The  Slaves  of  Fashion. 

jLCOHOL,  the  product  of  civilization, 
has  become  the  curse  of  civilization. 
It  accompanies  the  first  rude  settlers 
on  the  desolate  frontiers,  as  a  curse; 
it  follows  in  the  wake  of,  or  precedes 
the  pioneer  of  Christianity  in  the  des- 
erts  of  heathenism,  as  a  hindrance. 
The  missionary  finds  it  the  greatest  ob- 
stacle to  his  work.  It  is  the  universal 
testimony  that  the  introduction  of  alcoholic  drinks 
among  pagan  nations  has  been  an  unmitigated  curse 
to  the  population.  By  it  the  Indian  of  our  own 
country  has  been  swindled,  deceived,  and  reduced  far 

290 


THEY  ARE   CHRISTIANS.  291 

below  the  original  state  in  which  he  was  first  known 
to  civilization. 

I  have  letters  from  many  parts  of  the  world,  —  the 
same  story,  whether  from  civilized  Europe  or  pagan 
Africa;  whether  from  Asia,  with  its  millions  of  Ori- 
entals, or  from  our  own  country,  and  we  know  what 
it  is,  and  what  it  has  been  to  us. 

In  a  letter  from  Australia  the  writer  says :  "  Intoxi- 
cating drink  is  the  curse  of  our  young  colon}^." 

The  following  facts  are  from  a  letter  received  from 
a  British  officer  in  India.  After  saying  that  the  Mo- 
hammedans are  abstemious  and  do  not  drink  intoxi- 
cating liquors,  as  a  rule,  the  writer  says : 

"  The  remark  is  often  made  by  the  natives,  when 
they  see  a  Mohammedan  drunk,  *  He  has  left  Moham- 
med and  gone  to  Jesus.' r 

On  one  occasion,  while  he  was  urging  a  native  to 
examine  the  claims  of  Christianity,  two  drunken  Eng- 
lish soldiers  passed. 

"  See,"  said  the  native,  "  do  you  wish  me  to  be  like 
that?  As  a  Mohammedan,  I  could  not;  as  a  Chris- 
tian, I  might." 

At  a  ball  given  by  the  officers  a  request  was  made 
to  the  general  that  rations  of  spirits  should  be  served 
to  the  military  band.  The  general  objected,  on  the 
ground  that  they  were  Mohammedans.  The  reply 
was,  "  No ;  they  are  Christians ;  "  and  the  spirits  were 
ordered. 

This  is  the  evil  we  mourn  over.  Shall  we  do  no 
more?  Many  tell  us  we  exaggerate,  or  select  the 
worst  cases.  Again  I  say,  let  such  investigate.  Par- 
don me,  if  I  give  a  short  extract  from  a  speech  of 
Canon  Farrar  in  the  Sheldonian  Theatre,  Oxford,  —  a 
place  which,  twenty  years  ago,  no  one  could  have 


292  CANON  FAERAE. 

imagined  would  ever  be  opened  for  a  temperance 
lecture;  the  very  proposal  would  have  been  hailed 
with  a  shout  of  incredulous  derision.  He  says: 

"  Gentlemen :  I  look  around  me,  not  here  in  England  only,  but  also 
through  all  the  world,  over  dependencies  upon  which  the  sun  never  sets, 
and  I  see  the  frightful,  the  intolerable  evidences  of  the  devastation 
wrought  by  one  fatal  sin  —  the  sin  of  drunkenness ;  and  that  sin  caused 
by  one  fatal  product  —  alcohol  diluted  in  intoxicating  drinks.  I  am 
unable,  I  have  not  the  heart,  to-day,  to  touch  on  one-tenth  or  one-hun- 
dredth part  of  the  proofs  which  demonstrate  to  every  serious  mind  at  all 
acquainted  with  the  facts,  the  awful  importance  of  this  question.  Focus 
the  lurid  gleams  which  flash  upwards  from  this  pit  of  destruction,  and 
you  will  see  how  frightful  is  the  glare.  Track  the  subterranean  ramifi- 
cations of  this  evil,  and  you  will  see  how  the  whole  nation,  the  whole 
empire,  is  undermined ;  how  every  tread  we  take  is  over  fire,  ever  burst- 
ing through  the  treacherous  ashes. 

"  It  is  matter  not  of  assertion,  but  of  sternest  demonstration,  that  the 
drink  traffic  causes  the  most  amazing  waste  of  our  national  resources ; 
that  to  it  are  due,  mainly  and  almost  exclusively,  the  worst  phenomena 
of  pauperism ;  that  it  causes  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  those  melancholy 
cases  of  domestic  ruin  which  fill  our  police  courts :  that  it  contributes 
enormously,  both  directly  and  indirectly,  to  the  hideous  social  evil ;  that 
but  for  it,  on  the  testimony  of  nearly  every  judge  on  the  bench,  crimes 
of  violence  would  well-nigh  disappear ;  that  it  is  the  cause,  both  directly 
and  indirectly,  of  a  most  terrible  mortality ;  that  it  chokes  our  prisons, 
mad-houses,  and  penitentiaries ;  that  it  creates  an  hereditary  taint  which 
makes  life  a  curse  to  a  stunted  population;  that  because  of  it,  thousands, 
ay,  tens  of  thousands,  of  miserable  men,  and  yet  more  miserable  women, 
and  poor  little  children,  most  miserable  of  all,  lead  lives  of  such  squalor 
and  anguish,  as  only  they  who  have  witnessed  can  conceive ;  that  it  dev- 
astates the  humanity,  and  blights  the  bodies  and  the  souls,  not  only  of 
600,000  drunkards,  but  of  the  millions  which  their  ruin  drags  down  to 
shame ;  that  it  frustrates  our  religious  efforts  at  home ;  that  it  destroys 
and  ruins  our  mission  efforts  abroad ;  that  it  is  the  chief  bane  and  ruin 
of  our  homes ;  that  it  is  the  darkest  stain  on  the  glory  and  prosperity  of 
our  nation. 

"  Exaggeration,  gentlemen !  There  is  not  one  word  of  this  indictment 
which  is  not  true  to  the  letter ;  not  one  word  of  it  which  is  not  capable 
of  the  most  rigorous  proof  which  evidence  can  establish  and  statistics 
contain.  And  unless  it  be  exaggeration  to  say  twilight  when  we  mean 
midnight,  then  it  is  none  to  say  the  blackness  of  its  darkness  could  only 
be  represented  in  such  colors  as  when  some  mighty  painter  dips  his 
pencil  in  the  hues  of  earthquake  and  eclipse.  Those  who  know  nothing 


STARTLING   STATEMENTS.    •  293 

whatever  about  the  subject  —  those  who  are  so  unhappy  as  to  be  blinded 
by  the  possession,  in  some  shape  or  other,  of  a  share,  or  a  freehold,  or 
an  interest  in  the  production  or  the  sale  of  that  which  is  the  cause  of  all 
this  iniquity  —  may  call  this  impeachment  exaggerated ;  but  they  have 
never  shaken,  they  have  never  even  attempted  to  shake,  the  damning 
evidence  on  which  it  is  founded,  and  to  which  concur,  with  startling 
unanimity,  the  testimony  of  every  person,  and  every  class  of  persons, 
that  has  in  any  way  studied  or  come  across  the  subject.  That  evidence 
has  been  produced  in  the  most  public  way,  and  in  every  possible  way, 
again  and  again ;  it  has  been  produced  before  committees  of  the  House 
of  Lords,  and  before  committees  of  the  House  of  Commons ;  it  has  been 
gathered  for  the  Northern  House  of  Convocation,  and  the  Southern 
House  of  Convocation ;  it  has  been  collected  by  statesmen,  and  collected 
by  political  economists;  it  has  been  furnished  from  sources  the  most 
opposite  and  the  most  unsuspected ;  it  is  derived  from  clergymen  and 
from  judges,  from  jailers  and  from  policemen,  from  the  heads  of  work- 
houses and  asylums,  from  physicians  and  from  publicans ;  and  it  stands 
not  only  unshaken,  but  absolutely  unchallenged.  And  more  than  this, 
it  is  constantly  admitted,  at  unguarded  moments,  by  the  very  agents  and 
the  very  writers  who  detest  teetotalers,  and  who  leave  no  stone  unturned 
to  defeat  Sir  W.  Lawson,  and  to  overthrow  the  Alliance.  Language 
which,  if  used  by  a  temperance  reformer,  would  be  angrily  set  aside  as 
exaggerated,  is  quite  freely  used  at  unsuspected  turns  by  such  grave 
and  moderate  organs  as  the  '  Quiver,'  the  '  Standard,'  and  the  '  Quarterly 
Review.' " 

Though  the  consequences  of  drinking  are  so  terri- 
ble, yet  when  we  turn  to  a  certain  class  of  drinkers, 
there  is  something  ludicrous  in  their  assumptions  of 
importance  and  style,  and  their  pride  in  being  consid- 
ered connoisseurs  of  the  various  brands  of  liquors 
they  consume.  There  is  no  class  in  this  country  so 
swindled  and  humbugged  as  the  wine  and  spirit 
drinkers;  and  the  wonder  of  all  is,  that  they  know 
they  are  cheated.  How  many  in  this  country  do  you 
suppose  think  for  a  moment  that  they  are  drinking 
what  the  label  or  brand  on  their  bottle  purports  it  to 
be?  The  gentleman  who  drinks  his  "fine  old  port" 
must  know  that  there  is  more  "  fine  old  port "  sold  in 
New  York  than  there  is  made,  purely  from  grapes,  in 
all  the  region  professedly  the  port-wine  region.  He 


294  •       TRANSPARENT   HUMBUG. 

will  submit  to  such  barefaced  swindling  in  reference 
to  no  other  article  he  uses. 

I  have  good  authority  for  this  statement,  that, 
"Of  the  port  shipped  for  the  English  market  as 
vintage  wine,  from  nine  months  to  two  years  old,  at 
least  two-thirds  is  manufactured  or  adulterated  in 
Oporto." 

In  a  book  which  I  obtained  with  some  difficulty, 
entitled  "  The  Manufacture  of  Liquors,  Wines,  &c., 
without  the  aid  of  distillation,  arranged  and  prepared 
expressly  for  the  trade,"  the  author  says :  "  For  bars, 
hotels,  &c.,  the  following  directions  will  insure  a  sav- 
ing of  from  forty  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  per  cent, 
per  gallon,  and  the  most  critical  examination  will 
scarcely  detect  the  genuine,  a  chemical  test  alone 
being  able  to  indicate  the  difference  of  the  one  from 
the  other."  And  again :  "  The  great  secret  of  success 
in  the  manufacture  of  liquor  consists  in  imparting  to 
the  imitation  the  precise  aroma  of  the  genuine,  and 
thus  obtain  an  article  as  near  reality  as  possible,  at  a 
far  less  cost."  I  give  his  list  of  articles  used  for  the 
manufacture  of  these  liquors.  "Neutral  spirit:  When 
alcohol  is  cleansed  of  grain-oil,  it  is  then  called  neu- 
tral spirit.  Tartaric,  citric,  and  sulphuric  acids,  alum, 
amylic  alcohol,  or  fusil-oil,  heavy  oil  of  wine,  ammo- 
nia, ambergris,  sweet  and  bitter  almonds,  oils  of  sweet 
and  bitter  almonds,  cardamom,  bone-black,  namely, 
animals'  bones  burnt  and  ground,  balsam  of  Peru, 
catechu,  caustic  potassa,  cubebs,  slippery-elm  bark, 
.eggs  for  fining,  sulphuric,  nitric,  and  butyric  ether, 
flax-seed,  grape-sugar,  flour,  gamboge,  gentian,  honey, 
molasses,  oak-bark,  oatmeal,  long,  cayenne,  and  black 
pepper,  pellitory  and  grains  of  paradise  (powerful 
acrimonious  substances  used  for  giving  false  strength 


IMPORTED    COGNAC?  297 

to  liquors),  tinctures  of  musk  and  tolu,  snake-root, 
sweet  spirits  of  nitre,  tea,  quassia,  olive-oil,  oils  of 
caraway,  cloves,  cedar,  juniper,  lavender,  lemon, 
mace,  rosemary,  roses,  sassafras  and  wintergreen, 
creosote  and  turpentine."  These  are  all  used  for  the 
manufacture  of  liquor;  and  for  the  coloring,  the 
author  gives  "  alkanet  root,  red  beets,  Brazil  wood, 
cochineal,  indigo,  logwood,  red  sanders  wood,  and 
saffron." 

How  absurd  it  is  to  see  men  drinking  their  cognac 
brandy  and  boasting  of  its  purity,  "  for  it  is  *  im- 
ported.' '•  I  have  before  me  a  method  for  giving  age 
to  new  casks,  and  branding  barrels  and  casks  with 
marks  that  are  not  exactly  cystom-house.  Let  us  see 
how  your  brandy  is  made,  though  perhaps  I  should 
say  other  people's  brandy.  First,  the  French  method, 
practised  in  France: 

"  Clean  spirit,  containing  50  per  cent,  of  alcohol,  100  gallons ;  honey, 
7  gallons,  dissolved  in  3  gallons  of  water,  having  first  bruised  l\  ounces 
of  cochineal  and  allowed  it  to  macerate  in  the  water  for  a  few  days. 
Then  add  8  ounces  of  catechu,  5  gallons  of  rum,  12  ounces  of  acetic 
ether,  then  add  clean  burnt  sugar ;  color  to  suit  the  fancy  or  the  particu- 
lar market  it  is  intended  for." 

This  is  your  "  pure "  French  imported  cognac 
brandy.  Now  we  will  see  how  cognac  is  manufac- 
tured here: 

"  25  gallons  of  whiskey,  14  gallons  of  water,  1  gallon  tincture  of  pep- 
per, 1^  gallons  of  strong  tea,  6  drops  of  oil  of  orange  dissolved  in  a  wine- 
glass of  alcohol,  1  pound  of  acetic  ether ;  color  with  burnt  sugar  or  san- 
ders wood."  Note:  "This  can  be  made  at  from  12  to  20  cents  per  gal- 
lon, according  to  the  price  of  wliiskey,  20  cents  per  gallon  being  the 
estimated  price." 

Hurrah  for  the  swindle!  Who  are  the  biggest 
fools,  those  who  will  not  touch  the  stuff,  or  those 
who  are  cheate'd  with  their  eyes  open? 


298  "GENUINE  CHAMPAGNE." 

Some  prefer  Schiedam  schnapps  to  cognac.  How 
is  it  made? 

"  Common  gin*  30  gallons,  strained  honey  4£  gallons,  water  2  gal- 
lons, sulphuric  acid  1  ounce,  sweet  spirits  of  nitre  8  ounces,  spirit  of 
nitric  ether  3  ounces,  10  drops  of  oil  of  wintergreen  dissolved  in  2  ounces 
of  acetic  ether." 

The  comment  after  the  receipt,  is,  "  Really  a  fine 
liquor,  and  cheaply  made."  When  I  observe  gentle- 
men, and  often  ladies,  ordering  wine  at  the  hotel, 
looking  so  very  wisely  over  the  list,  and  gravely 
choosing  champagne  as  the  most  fashionable  wine 
for  drinking,  I  am  very  much  inclined  to  laugh, 
while  I  am  saddened  at  what  may  be  the  result  of 
their  folly. 

Champagne !  Let  me  give  you  a  receipt  for  mak- 
ing champagne  —  genuine  champagne ;  for  while  you 
know  there  is  more  champagne  bought,  sold,  and 
drank  in  New  York  than  there  is  manufactured  of  the 
pure  article  in  the  world,  you  —  whether  at  home  or 
abroad,  in  Paris,  London,  Berlin,  or  New  York  — 
always  obtain  "  genuine  champagne."  Here's  the  re- 
ceipt: 

"  Fifty  gallons  of  water,  2  gallons  of  honey,  5  ounces  of  bruised  gin- 
ger, 5  ounces  of  ground  mustard.  Boil  this  mass  30  minutes,  add  a  quart 
of  yeast,  and  let  it  ferment  from  10  to  14  days.  Add  6  ounces  of  bitter 
almonds  bruised,  spirits  and  grains  of  paradise  to  suit  convenience.  The 
more  spirit  the  champagne  possesses  the  greater  will  be  its  body.  For 
coloring,  use  cochineal  half  an  ounce  to  the  50  gallons." 

There  you  have  it,  and  in  addition  we  have  the 
direction  for  bottling,  laying  on  the  Dutch  metal,  and 

*  The  receipt  for  making  common  gin  is  25  gallons  of  clear  whiskey, 
water  10  gallons,  oil  of  juniper  dissolved  in  a  gill  of  alcohol  (sometimes 
a  small  portion  of  turpentine  is  added),  1  gallon  of  grains  of  paradise  of 
double  strength,  fine,  with  alum. 


CATAWBA  AND    SHERRY.  299 

printing  and  placing  the  labels  to  prove  that  you  get 
it  pure  and  genuine,  direct  from  any  firm  you  choose 
to  select.  Oh,  I  forgot  —  for  pink  champagne  add 
"  a  little  more  cochineal." 

"Ah,"  say  you,  "but  I  only  drink  native  wines, 
sparkling  Catawba."  Well,  here  you  have  it: 

"  Receipt  for  Sparkling  Catawba :  — 100  pounds  of  raisins,  35  gallons  of 
sweet  cider,  100  gallons  of  water,  3  pints  of  yeast;  ferment  for  12  days; 
then  add  12  gallons  of  honey,  12  gallons  of  clean  spirit,  1  grain  of  amber- 
gris rubbed  well  with  2  ounces  of  sugar ;  then  4  gallons  of  Jamaica  rum, 
12  ounces  of  orris-root,  and  fine  the  whole  with  3  quarts  of  boiled  milk 
added  while  hot." 

Very  fine  sparkling  Catawba! 
"  Well,"  say  some,  "  I  only  drink  claret."    Here  you 
have  the  receipt: 

"Claret  Vin  de Bordeaux:  —  Five  gallons  of  boiled  cider,  2  gallons  of 
spirit,  5  gallons  of  water,  2  ounces  of  powdered  catechu,  or  2  drops  of 
sulphuric  acid  to  the  gallon  to  suit  the  taste.  Color  with  tincture  of  log- 
wood." 

Do  you  prefer  sherry? 

"  Ten  gallons  of  cider,  4  ounces  of  bitter  almonds,  1  gallon  of  honey, 
4  ounces  of  mustard.  Boil  for  30  minutes;  then  add  one-half  pint  of 
spirit  of  orris-root,  2  ounces  essence  of  cassia,  3  quarts  of  rum." 

Then  we  have  this  additional  piece  of  information: 
"  Jamaica  rum  is  preferable,  as  this  wine  is  often  pre- 
pared for  the  auctions,  but  the  amount  of  spirit  be- 
comes an  important  item,  owing  to  its  cost;  therefore 
when  this  is  kept  in  view,  tincture  of  grains  of  para- 
dise should  be  substituted  for  spirits." 

But  here  is  the  receipt  for  the  port  which  is  used  so 
freely  by  the  gentlemen  of  the  old  school,  who  "  al- 
ways get  the  best,"  —  the  port  prescribed  so  freely  by 
physicians,  who  should  not  dare  to  tamper  with  any  del- 
eterious substance  without  knowing  something  of  the 


300  GOOD   POET   WINE. 

ingredients,  and  who  are  bound  to  get  it  pure.  I  only 
ask,  when  the  country  is  flooded  with  such  stuff  as  is 
sold  for  "  port  wine  "  (and  the  manufacturers  whisper 
that  we  cannot  tell  the  difference  between  that  and 
the  genuine),  how  do  these  doctors,  who  so  freely 
prescribe,  know  what  they  give  to  their  patients?  I 
give  you  a  receipt  for  making  "  good  port  wine  " : 

"  Twenty  gallons  of  cider,  2  gallons  of  honey,  12  ounces  of  carbonate 
of  soda,  1£  gallons  strong  tincture  grains  of  paradise,  5  ounces  of  pow- 
dered catechu.  Color  with  logwood  or  burnt  sugar.  A  small  portion  of 
spirit  would  improve  it.  The  carbonate  of  soda  is  to  neutralize  the  acid 
in  the  cider,  which,  if  allowed  to  remain,  would  present  too  large  a  pro- 
portion of  acid  for  good  port." 

How  careful  they  are  that  drinkers  shall  have  "good 
port!" 

In  addition  to  these  receipts,  published  "for  the 
trade,"  are  receipts  for  manufacturing  seven  kinds 
of  brandy,  besides  the  cognac,  some  of  which  might 
frighten  you,  seven  kinds  of  whiskey,  two  kinds  of 
gin,  five  kinds  of  rum,  and  ten  different  kinds  of 
wine. 

Now,  to  the  porter  and  ale  drinkers  we  have  some- 
thing to  say.  The  following  is  a  receipt  for  making 
porter : 

"  Boil  3  quarts  of  wheat  bran,  1J  pounds  of  hops,  and  8  ounces  of 
bruised  ginger,  in  12  gallons  of  water,  for  one  hour.  Then  strain 
through  flannel,  and,  while  warm,  add  2  gallons  of  molasses,  1  quart  of 
yeast,  half  a  pint  of  brandy-coloring,  and  half  a  gallon  of  tincture  of 
grains  of  paradise,  which  will  be  formed  by  digesting  8  ounces  of  the 
grain  in  half  a  gallon  of  whiskey." 

If  you  prefer  ale,  here's  a  receipt: 

"  4  pounds  of  brown  sugar,  1  pound  of  hops,  2  ounces  of  quassia,  and 
12  gallons  of  water.  Boil  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  Then  add  1 
gallon  of  molasses,  1  pint  of  yeast,  and  continue  the  fermentation  until 
the  froth  ceases  to  rise  on  the  surface.  Then  add  half  a  gallon  of  tine- 


BOTTLED   ALE.  301 

ture  of  grains  of  paradise,  and  strain  through  flannel.    Add  3  ounces  of 
butyric  ether,  and  boil  immediately" 

To  avoid  the  costly  price  of  hops,  the  small  dealer 
of  ale  and  porter,  as  a  substitute  for  the  bitter  of  the 
hops,  makes  use  of  quassia,  nux  vomica,  or  strych- 
nine, aloes,  catechu,  pellitory,  long  pepper,  worm- 
wood, gentian;  and  for  a  false  strength  similar  to 
alcohol,  uses  cocculus  indicus,  copperas,  and  grains  of 
paradise. 

The  following  receipt  for  giving  strength  and  body 
tp  beer  and  ale  is  given: 

"  2  pounds  of  quassia,  2  pounds  of  gentian  braised,  1  pound  of  aloes, 
10  gallons  of  water.  Boil  to  5  gallons.  Then  add  1  pound  of  copperas, 
and  boil  to  4  gallons.  Add  this  to  the  ale  to  suit  the  taste." 

I  will  conclude  with  the  following  interesting  state- 
ment to  the  uninitiated :  "  It  may  be  necessary  to  state, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  uninitiated  reader,  when  and  how 
this  kind  of  porter  and  ale  is  disposed  of  to  form  a  re- 
munerative investment.  This  consists  in  bottling  and 
labelling  this  fluid  with  neatness.  The  labels  should 
be  obtained  from  the  lithographers,  and  should  be  ex- 
ecuted in  the  highest  style  of  art.  The  same  articles 
are  sold  under  the  names  of  London  porter,  Scotch 
ale,  India  pale  ale,  pineapple  ale,  &c.,  &c.;  and  the 
ale  receives  all  the  names  of  the  different  varieties  of 
that  article  that  have  acquired  any  celebrity  in  com- 
merce. The  bottles  are  packed  in  barrels  or  boxes, 
and  are  disposed  of  at  auction.  This  ale  is  usually 
manufactured  at  a  cost  varying  from  four  to  eight 
cents  per  gallon." 

"It  is  not  an  unusual  occurrence  in  commerce  to 
meet  with  porter  (or  so  called)  that  has  been  made 
from  the  fermentation  of  molasses,  yeast,  and  water. 


302  POISONED   PORTER. 

This,  after  becoming  sufficiently  acidulated  from  fer- 
mentation, has  the  further  progress  of  the  fermenta- 
tion checked  by  the  addition  of  alcohol,  and  a  small 
portion  of  ground  mustard-seed.  It  is  then  strength- 
ened with  aloes,  pellitory,  pepper,  quassia,  catechu, 
and  burnt  sugar,  and  has  a  rough,  bitter,  acidulous 
taste,  and  leaves  a  disagreeable  after-taste  in  the 
mouth." 

A  gentleman  writes  me:  "About  a  year  ago,  a 
dealer  in  paints  told  me  that  a  man  came  in  to  pur- 
chase sugar  of  lead.  He  had  none,  except  some  that 
was  rather  dirty,  which  he  alluded  to.  The  purchaser 
said  it  would  suit  his  purpose ;  he  did  not  want  it  to 
mix  with  paints  as  a  dryer,  but  to  sweeten  sour 
wine." 

Now,  to  what  end  is  this  revelation?  What  effect 
will  it  produce?  Very  little,  if  any,  to  prevent 
some  men  and  women  from  drinking.  Those  who 
have  the  appetite,  and  are  determined  to  gratify  it, 
will  not  be  deterred  from  drinking  by  a  knowledge 
of  the  poison  or  the  nastiness  of  the  liquor  which 
they  crave.  Men  have  been  known  to  drink  alcohol 
out  of  bottles  containing  specimens  of  vile  things, 
snakes,  scorpions,  &c.;  have  been  known  to  drink 
the  spirits  in  which  a  corpse  has  been  washed;  to 
drink  camphor,  cologne,  camphine,  anything  however 
vile,  offensive,  or  filthy,  containing  the  alcohol  to 
start  the  stagnant  blood  in  the  diseased  vessels  of 
the  stomach. 

Many  who  are  the  slaves  of  fashion,  who  drink  be- 
cause they  are  afraid  to  refuse,  will  pooh,  pooh,  such 
revelations,  and  profess  not  to  believe;  and  so  all  that 
we  can  say,  all  the  flood  of  light  that  can  be  thrown 
on  the  subject,  fails  to  convince  sufficiently  to  induce 


WARN,   ENTREAT,    SAVE.  303 

the  people  to  abstain.  So  the  manufacturer  and 
dealer,  rolling  in  his  wealth,  or  striving  to  make 
money,  can  laugh  us  to  scorn  in  all  our  attempts  to 
reveal  the  truth  to  the  victims  either  of  appetite  or 
custom.  But  whether  men  hear,  or  whether  they 
forbear,  God  helping  us,  we  shall  do  our  best  to 
warn,  entreat,  and  save. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

SOME   OF   MY  EXPERIENCES   WITH   BKAZEN-FACED 
PEOPLE. 

The  Life  of  a  Public  Man  —  Peculiar  Annoyances  —  Kind  Treatment  of 
the  Press  —  "  Interviewing  "  —  An  Unfortunate  Little  Notice  —  "John 
B.  Gough  lying  dangerously  ill  "  —  Mistakes  in  reporting  Lectures  — 
Amusing  Specimen  —  Applications  for  Help  —  Begging  Letter-Writ- 
ers —  Tramps  preferable  to  these  —  Extracts  from  Begging-Letters  — 
Young  Man's  Strange  Request  for  Fifteen  Hundred  Dollars  —  Re- 
quest for  One  Thousand  Dollars  —  What  the  Lord  is  reported  to  have 
said  —  One  Thousand  Dollars  wanted  to  educate  two  Nieces  —  "I  am 
taken  in  "  —  Notes  and  Promises  to  Pay  —  A  New  Method  —  A  Cu- 
rious Plan  of  Professionals  —  Begging  "  Mediums  "  —  Letter  purport- 
ing to  come  from  my  Mother  —  An  Incident  in  Scotland. 


is  in  the  life  of  a  public  man,  es- 
pecially of  one  who  is  constantly  before 
the  people,  a  monotony  of  change,  when 
the  necessity  for  constant  travel  be- 
comes exceedingly  wearisome,  and  the 
mere  thought  of  rest  is  a  comfort.  Still 
there  are  compensations  in  the  knowl- 
edge  that  your  aim  is  to  make  men  better, 
and  that  you  are  not  absorbed  in  the  selfish 
ambition  that  seeks  your  own,  independent  of  other's 
welfare;  and  again,  in  the  delightful  associations  that 
ripen  into  life-long  friendships,  and  the  companion- 
ship of  the  good,  the  true,  and  the  pure  —  the  very 
nobility  of  humanity. 

Every  public  man  is  often  exposed  to  annoyances, 

304 


LIBERALITY   OF   THE   PRESS.  305 

some  serious  in  themselves;  some  more  trifling,  yet 
serious  in  their  results ;  while  others  are  almost  im- 
perceptible to  sight  or  touch,  like  the  red  bug  of  the 
south,  inserting  its  almost  infinitesimal  self  under 
the  skin  to  irritate  and  inflame;  or  the  mosquito  of 
the  north,  that  persistently  hums  his  defiance  in  your 
ear,  till  you  wish  he  would  bite,  and  end  the  music. 

In  speaking  of  annoyances,  I  have  no  desire  to 
complain;  but  if  the  relation  of  some  of  them  may 
induce  any  who  unintentionally  annoy  to  be  more 
thoughtful,  this  will  not  be  a  wasteful  expenditure  of 
tune  or  paper. 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  criticise  or  speak  unkindly  of 
the  press,  for  I  have  been  most  kindly  treated  by 
newspapers  for  thirty-eight  years.  Seldom  in  all  that 
time  have  I  received  an  unfair  criticism  from  any  re- 
spectable paper,  much  less  any  personal  injustice.  I 
have  been  criticised,  and  occasionally  with  a  sharpness 
that  made  me  wince;  but  I  have  endeavored  to  profit 
by  every  criticism,  so  far  as  has  been  in  my  power. 
Every  public  man  must  acknowledge  to  have  been 
occasionally  treated  unfairly  by  one  portion  of  the 
press,  that  can  hardly  lay  claim  to  respectability.  In 
the  United  States  and  in  Great  Britain,  most  kind 
and  liberal  notices  have  been  given  of  my  work, 
although  I  have  never  asked  for  a  notice;  and  only 
twice  in  thirty  years  have  I  been  in  an  editor's  office, 
besides  having  never  once  sent  a  press-notice  to  the 
committees  employing  me,  though  often  urged  to  do 
so.  All  the  kind  notices  —  and  they  have  been  many 
—  have  been  entirely  voluntary  on  the  part  of  the 
press,  and  never  sought  by  me. 

One  annoyance  is  experienced  in  the  system  of 
interviewing.  No  statement  made  of  a  man's  per- 
19 


306  AN  INTERVIEWEE. 

sonal  history  or  opinions  should  ever  be  published, 
without  submitting  it  to  his  perusal  and  revision;  for 
one  word,  either  in  addition  or  subtraction,  may  make 
a  tremendous  difference  in  the  whole  meaning. 

I  remember  but  one  occasion  when  I  could  fairly 
state  that  I  was  interviewed,  and  then  I  was  so  sadly 
misrepresented  that  it  made  a  former  friend  a  strong 
enemy,  and  put  me  so  wrongly  before  a  large  section 
of  tempeiance  reformers,  that  I  have  not  been  fully 
righted  up  to  the  present  time. 

A  gentleman  called  on  me  at  the  hotel  where  I  was 
stopping,  in  a  "Western  city.  The  conversation  was 
in  substance  this: 

"  I  wish  to  get  your  opinion  on  the  women's  tem- 
perance crusade.  What  do  you  think  of  it?  " 

"  I  have  seen  scarcely  anything  of  it,  and  am  not 
qualified  to  give  an  opinion  without  further  knowl- 
edge of  the  work.  From  what  I  have  heard,  I  should 
judge  it  to  be  a  new  departure  which  promises  to 
wake  the  people  up  to  some  interest  on  the  ques- 
tion." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  women  praying  and 
singing  in  the  street?" 

"  With  regard  to  that,  I  am  rather  dubious,  and 
should  hardly  like  to  give  any  opinion.  I  have  not 
seen  that  phase  of  the  women's  work;  but  it  seems  to 
me  I  should  hardly  like  to  see  my  wife  or  sister 
singing  and  praying  in  the  saloons,  or  in  the  public 
streets." 

"  Do  you  not  think  Mr. is  a  mere  sensation- 
alist? " 

"  As  to  that,  I  can  only  say  I  have  not  the  dread  of 
sensationalism  that  afflicts  many  very  good  people.  I 
think  we  need  something  to  waken  us  up ;  and  I  do 


INCORRECT    STATEMENT.  307 

not  object  to,  but  rather  welcome,  some  excitement. 
I  certainly  prefer  a  little  sensationalism  to  the  dull, 
heavy  apathy,  that  is  so  hard  to  interest.  As  for 

Mr. 's  sensationalism,  I  know  nothing  about  it. 

I  believe  he  has  been  very  enthusiastic  in  his  advo- 
cacy of  the  women's  crusade." 

This,  I  think,  was  all  I  said  of  importance;  and 
when  I  saw  in  the  morning  paper  the  report  of  the 
interview,  I  felt  my  cheek  burn,  for  I  at  once  saw  that 
it  would  put  me  in  a  false  light  before  the  people  who 
might  read  it,  and  was  an  injustice  to  a  man  who  was 
my  friend.  This  was  the  report  of  the  interview: 

"  Mr.  Gough  is  not  very  much  in  favor  of  the 
women's  crusade.  With  regard  to  the  praying  and 
singing  in  the  streets,  Mr.  Gough  would  not  like  to  see 
his  wife  or  sister  doing  such  work;  and  his  opinion  is 
that  Mr. is  a  mere  sensationalist." 

I  received  many  letters  of  inquiry,  and  found  my- 
self compelled  publicly  to  take  a  position  decidedly 
for  or  against  the  women's  work;  and  after  becom- 
ing acquainted  with  and  interested  in  it,  attending 
some  of  their  meetings,  I  was  rejoiced  most  emphati- 
cally to  approve  their  efforts,  which  I  did  continually 
in  every  speech,  when  I  could  consistently  introduce 
it.  The  mistake  of  the  "  interviewer "  caused  me 
some  annoyance. 

On  another  occasion,  the  wrong  done  to  me,  or 
perhaps  I  should  say,  the  inconvenience  to  which  I 
was  subjected,  arose  from  an  incorrect  statement  made 
to  an  interviewer  by  a  gentleman  who  I  know  would 
never  willingly  have  caused  me  any  annoyance;  and 
if  his  statement  had  been  submitted  to  me,  I  would 
gladly  have  revised  it ;  but  the  article  was  extensively 
published,  with  no  revision.  Several  of  the  answers 


308  RESULTS   OF   MISTAKES. 

to  the  interviewer's  questions  were  quite  correct,  some 
of  them  slightly  incorrect,  but  of  no  material  conse- 
quence; but  there  was  one  assertion  that  was  made 
on  no  authority  but  a  supposition,  that  "John  B. 
Gough  has  an  annuity,  and  is  worth  $100,000 ;  "  —  a 
statement  of  no  particular  importance  to  any  one;  to 
me  it  would  have  been  very  gratifying  if  true;  but 
the  fact  is,  I  have  no  annuity,  and  am  not  worth  in 
available  property  one-half  the  sum  stated. 
"  Well,  how  can  such  a  report  injure  you?  " 
Only  by  the  annoyance  of  being  compelled  to  refuse 
applicants  for  help.  They  have  come,  since  that  item 
was  published,  from  all  quarters  of  this  country,  from 
persons  who  never  saw  me,  from  remote  places  I  have 
never  visited,  and  for  sums  varying  from  $1,200  to 
"  what  you  think  }^ou  can  afford."  These  applications 
are  generally  prefaced  by  the  announcement  that  they 
have  read  in  the  papers  so  and  so.  The  item  was 
published  in  an  English  paper;  and  from  the  other 
side  of  the  Atlantic  I  have  received  several  appli- 
cations for  help  on  the  ground  of  being  possessor  of 
£20,000  and  an  annuity.  On  another  page  I  shall 
speak  fully,  and  give  my  opinion  of  these  beggars. 

At  one  time,  in  the  midst  of  a  season's  work,  I  was 
taken  ill  at  Scranton,  Pa.  The  physician  said  it  was 
a  severe  cold,  and  I  must  rest  a  few  days,  or  it  might 
develop  into  pneumonia.  So  I  gave  up  two  appoint- 
ments, and  remained  in  Scranton  from  Friday  till 
Tuesday.  On  "Wednesday  I  commenced  work  again; 
and,  while  travelling  to  an  appointment  on  the  Thurs- 
day, saw  in  a  daily  paper  this  item  of  news:  "John 
B.  Gough  is  lying  dangerously  ill  at  Scranton." 
That  small  item  cost  me  several  dollars,  and  gave  me 
much  annoyance.  First  came  the  telegrams  to  the 


ANNOYING   MISTAKES.  309 

Bureau,  inquiring  if  I  should  be  able  to  meet  my  en- 
gagements, or  would  they  furnish  another  lecturer  in 
my  place;  then  letters  to  me  forwarded  from  Scran- 
ton  ;  and  in  several  instances  I  was  told  on  my  arrival 
at  the  town  to  fill  my  appointment,  "  We  cannot  sell 
the  tickets,  for  the  people  do  not  believe  you  will 
come,  as  the  item  stating  your  illness  has  been  copied 
into  our  paper;  and  we  must  get  out  extra  handbills 
announcing  your  arrival,  and  that  you  will  lecture 
this  evening."  Thus  that  unfortunate  little  notice 
plagued  me,  and  diminished  my  audiences  for  more 
than  a  week. 

I  mention  one  other  annoyance,  and  that  may  be 
considered  a  very  small  one,  —  but  the  small  things 
are  sometimes  the  most  perplexing,  — just  as  a  small 
hair  in  the  nostril  will  irritate  worse  than  a  pain,  and 
the  tickle  of  a  feather  may  cause  convulsions  if  per- 
severed in,  and  a  drop  of  water  constantly  falling  on 
the  head  may  produce  madness.  I  refer  to  the  mis- 
takes in  reporting  what  is  said  in  a  lecture,  very  often 
quite  absurd  —  so  much  so  that  no  possible  harm  can 
be  done  by  them.  At  other  times  the  mistake  in  a 
word  may  completely  alter  the  tone  or  meaning  of 
the  whole  sentence,  and  we  are  reported  as  stating 
views  directly  the  opposite  of  our  convictions  and 
former  utterances. 

But  some  things,  to  use  the  New  England  expres- 
sion, "  are  too  funny  for  anything."  I  give  you  one 
from  a  report  of  a  five-columns  speech  in  an  English 
paper.  I  had  said : 

"  Come  with  me  to  the  Yosemite  Valley.  Yonder  stands  El  Capitan, 
a  mile  away ;  it  seems  so  near  you  could  strike  it  with  a  stone.  Approach 
it  nearer  —  nearer.  How  it  grows  and  widens  and  looms  up!  Nearer  yet 
—  nearer.  See  those  shrubs !  Shrubs?  They  are  trees,  one  hundred  feet 
in  height  and  three  to  four  feet  in  diameter.  See  that  dent  hi  the  face  of 


310  RIDICULOUS   REPORT. 

the  rock.  That  is  a  fissure  seventy -five  feet  deep.  Soon  you  stand  un- 
der the  shadow  of  El  Capitan.  A  plumb  line  from  the  summit  will  fall 
fifty  feet  from  its  base.  Now  look  up  —  up  —  up  —  thirty-six  hundred 
feet  right  up.  How  grand!  Two-thirds  of  a  mile.  A  perpendicular 
rock.  There  it  stands,  anchored  in  the  valley,  seared  and  seamed  with 
the  storms  of  centuries.  Your  nerves  thrill,  your  lips  quiver,  and  your 
eyes  till  with  tears.  You  are  impressed  with  the  grandeur  and  sublimity 
of  the  magnificent  surroundings.  You  feel  your  own  littleness,  that  you 
are  but  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance  in  comparison,  and  remember 
that  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  but  as  grasshoppers  in  His  sight, 
who  is  the  great  Creator." 

This  is  a  description  not  worth  much  perhaps,  but 
it  is  better  than  the  report  which  I  copy  from  the 
paper  that  lies  before  me : 

"Come  with  me  to  the  great  Yosemill  Valley  in  California.  The 
land  will  rise  before  you  miles  and  miles  away.  But  approach  it  nearer 
and  nearer.  How  the  land  looms  up  before  you !  See  in  the  distance  a 
shrub.  No;  it  is  a  tree,  twenty  feet  high  and  three  or  four  feet  in  diame- 
ter. Come  nearer  yet.  There's  a  dent  yonder.  No ;  it  is  a  fissure  in  the 
rock  seventy-five  feet  deep.  There  is  El  Capo,  thirty-six  hundred  feet 
from  the  base  to  the  summit.  Stand  and  look  up  at  the  inhabitants  on 
the  top  of  it,  and  they  appear  no  bigger  than  grasshoppers,  and  the  peo- 
ple look  down  on  you  as  the  small  dust  of  the  balance." 

That  is  verbatim.  In  the  same  report  were  sev- 
eral absurd  things,  but  this  was  the  most  ridiculous. 

Another  annoyance  is  the  increasing  number  of 
begging  letter-writers.  When  in  England  twenty- 
five  years  ago  I  boasted  that  I  knew  nothing  in 
America  of  the  system  of  writing  begging-letters,  so 
prominent  there ;  but  I  really  think  we  can  now  fairly 
challenge  competition  in  that  line  with  any  country  in 
the  world.  I  rather  think  it  is  an  imported  nuisance 
and  not  indigenous  to  the  soil  of  America. 

A  tramp  who  comes  to  my  house  and  tells  me  he 
wants  food  or  money,  or  help  of  any  kind,  is  prefera- 
ble to  the  whining,  begging  letter- writer.  The  tramps 
are  not  half  so  rasping  to  me  as  is  the  writer  of  a  let- 
ter from  which  I  give  an  extract: 


BEGGING  LETTERS.  311 

"  Having  heard  that  you  were  a  very  benevolent  man,  and  knowing 
you  were  not  a  poor  man,  for  I  saw  it  stated  in  the  paper  the  other  day 
the  amount  of  your  income,  I  make  bold  to  ask  you  a  favor.  My  folks 
are  respectable,  though  not  very  well  off,  and  I  wish  to  go  to  a  music 
school  for  three  years.  My  father  has  a  rich  uncle,  whom  I  wrote  to 
help  me,  but  he  thought  himself  too  poor.  The  cost  will  be  500  dol- 
lars a  year.  I  wish  you  would  send  me  a  check  for  500  dollars  for  three 
years,  or  a  check  at  once  for  1500  dollars.  Pardon  my  boldness,  but  I 
do  so  much  wish  to  go,  etc.,  etc. 

"P.  S.  —  A  check  payable  to  bearer." 

I  will  not  copy  long  extracts,  but  give  a  few  of  the 
cases.  One  writes: 

"  You  talk  of  serving  the  Lord.  You  will  serve  Him  by  helping  me. 
I  want  $1000  to  get  a  home." 

Another: 

"  I  asked  the  Lord  where  I  should  get  $100,  and  He  whispered  your 
name.  Now  if  you  go  to  the  Lord,  perhaps  He'll  tell  you  to  send  it 
to  me." 

Another : 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  happy  $100  would  make  me,  you  would  send 
it,  for  you  are  abundantly  able." 

Again : 

"  I  want  $1000  to  educate  two  nieces,  and  I  write  to  you." 

The  most  annoying  class  among  the  so-called  re- 
spectable beggars  are  those  who  apply  to  you  person- 
ally, and  by  appeals  to  your  sympathy  obtain  money 
they  never  mean  to  repay. 

A  young  American  in  England  begged  me  to  lend 
him  £IQ  for  a  passage  home.  He  could  be  sent  home 
by  steerage,  but  he  could  not  endure  a  steerage  pas- 
sage; spoke  of  his  relatives,  and  said,  "I  can  give 
you  an  order  on  my  mother."  The  money  was  lent 
and  two  pounds  additional  for  some  comforts  for  the 
voyage.  The  order  on  his  mother  was  given.  I  have 
it  now.  When  the  gentleman  reached  this  country  he 
had  the  coolness  to  write  me  not  to  present  the  order 


NEVER  MEAN   TO   PAY. 

to  his  mother,  as  it  would  be  of  no  use,  for  she  had  no 
money,  and  that  is  the  last  of  that  transaction.  Over 
and  over  again  have  I  declared  I  will  lend  no  more 
money  to  persons  unknown  to  me;  but  they  make 
such  fair  promises  that  I  think  "  this  must  be  a  real 
case,"  and,  like  Mr.  Hartop,  "  I  am  taken  in." 

These  people,  many  of  them,  never  intend  to  repay. 
I  write  as  a  sufferer ;  for  from  1845,  when  they  began 
on  me,  till  now,  the  game  has  been  going  on,  —  a 
losing  one  for  me,  for  I  have  notes  and  promises  to- 
pay  to  an  amount  that  would  hardly  be  believed  of 
one  in  my  circumstances.  All  I  can  say  is,  that  the 
amount  might  be  put  down  in  five  figures,  and  the 
figure  five  at  the  head  of  the  sum,  not  one  penny  of 
which  amount  do  I  ever  expect  to  receive;  for  of  all 
the  loans  I  have  made  —  and  they  are  hundreds  — 
I  have  received  only  in  four  or  five  cases  the  amounts 
borrowed. 

I  would  not  utter  one  word  to  discourage  the  benev- 
olent in  giving  to  real  objects  of  charity,  for  I  have 
given  freely  to  such;  but  it  is  the  regular  harpy  who 
thrives  on  the  benevolence  of  those  who  possess 
means,  or  it  is  the  young  man  —  and  the  number  of 
this  class  is  increasing  —  who  depends,  not  on  his 
own  exertions,  but  on  the  help  he  can  obtain  from 
others,  for  a  start  in  life.  The  whining  cry,  "  I  want 
a  little  help,"  from  able-bodied,  healthy  young  men 
who  are  not  ready  to  endure  hardship  and  some  pri- 
vation to  make  their  way  in  the  world,  is  contemptible. 
I  sometimes  think  of  adopting  a  plan  to  shame  these 
beggars,  if  they  have  any  shame  left;  and  that  is,  to 
publish  in  a  pamphlet  the  letters,  with  their  names, 
and  circulate  it  through  the  country,  and  offer  their 
notes  for  sale  at  a  discount. 


ATTENDED  TO  "  IMMEGERTELY."       313 

A  very  curious  plan  adopted  by  some  of  these  pro- 
fessionals is  to  take  advantage  of  the  credulity  of 
their  intended  victims.  I  give  portions  of  a  letter 
received,  purporting  to  come  from  my  mother,  who 
has  been  dead  forty  years. 

Poor,  dear  woman !  she  has  forgotten  how  to  spell, 
for  she  writes  that  this  letter  is  to  be  attended  to 
"  immegertely : " 

"  John,  I,  your  mother,  can  speak  to  you  through  a 
medium  in  Bath,  Maine."  (She  seems  to  have  learned 
something  of  geography;  for  when  she  was  a  denizen 
of  this  earth,  I  doubt  if  she  knew  there  was  such  a 
place  as  the  above.)  "You  and  this  medium  are 
strangers;  but  if  you  will  come  to  her,  my  dear  boy, 
I  can  convince  you  that  I  still  live  to  enjoy  my  son's 
prosperity."  (No  necessity  to  go  to  Maine  to  know 
that  the  dear  mother  lives.)  "  Do  not  think  or  believe 
your  mother  does  not  help  you  and  bear  you  up," 
&c.,  &c.  "John,  my  son,  fear  not;  God  has  given 
you  great  gifts,  and  He  has  given  great  gifts  to  the 
one  I  am  controlling  to-day.  I  wish  you  would  help 
her  to  come  out  of  her  poor  condition  she  is  in.  If 
you  knew  what  a  gem  she  is,  I  know  you  would  help 
her.  Come  and  see  me.  I,  your  mother,  send  this. 
Come  and  talk  to  me  through  this  medium.  If  you 
feel  disposed  to  help  her,  do.  From  your  mother  to 
John." 

This  reminds  me  of  an  incident  that  occurred  in 
Scotland  some  years  ago. 

I  was  on  the  platform  of  a  railway  station  waiting, 
with  my  wife,  for  a  train,  when  a  gentleman  ap- 
proached me,  looking  very  solemn,  and  said,  rather 
lugubriously: 


314:  "WE   HAD   A   SEANCE." 

"  Mr.  Gough,  we  have  had  a  communication  from 
your  dear  mother." 

"My  mother?"  I  said;  "why,  she  has  been  dead 
these  twenty  years." 

"  Yes,"  he  said ;  "  she  is  in  the  spirit  land,  and  oh, 
so  happy!  Would  you  not  like  to  hear  her  mes- 
sage?" 

"  That  depends;  how  did  you  get  your  message?" 

"  We  had  a  seance  last  evening,  and  communicated 
with  your  dear  mother.  Would  you  not  like  to  hear 
her  message?" 

"  ]STo ;  I  want  to  hear  nothing  about  it.  If  my 
mother,  who  knows  I  love  her  dearly  and  treasure 
every  little  relic  she  left  behind  her,  and  who  knows 
that  I  would  be  glad  to  see  her  and  hear  her  speak, 
will  not  communicate  with  me  except  through  me- 
diums, and  seances,  and  table-rappings  by  a  parcel  of 
people  who  know  nothing  about  her  and  care  as  little, 
I  do  not  wish  to  hear  anything ;  for  I  think  my  mother 
must  be  deteriorated  to  descend  to  such  tricks  to 
communicate  with  one  who  loves  her  as  well  as  I  do." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


AMUSING-  EXPERIENCES   WITH   LETTER- WRITERS, 
BEGGARS,   AND   ASPIRANTS   FOR  FAME. 

Letter- Writers  and  their  Wants  —  A  Lady  "  wishes  to  get  married ;  " 
full  Particulars  —  Specimen  of  a  Class  of  Oddities  —  What  "the 
Simple  Son  of  a  Carpenter  "  desires  —  An  Unappreciated  Benefactor 
of  his  Country  —  A  "Big  Thing"  to  be  accomplished  —  Applications 
for  Old  Lectures — The  Ambitious  Young  Man  with  a  "Hobby"  — 
An  Aspirant  for  Fame  —  Newspaper  Man  wishes  two  "Worn-out" 
Lectures  —  Request  for  a  "Moddle"  Lecture  —  Receipt  for  a  "Mod- 
die"  Lecture  —  A  Few  Hints  to  the  Ambitious  —  Requests  for  Auto- 
graphs —  Levying  Black-mail  —  Take  Warning  —  Dr.  Chalmers  on 
Autographs  —  Demand  for  Photographs  —  "  Very  like  a  Bore  "  —  Not 
limited  to  Friends  —  Comical  Arrangements  of  these  Pictures  —  Side 
by  Side  with  the  Gorilla. 

UBLIC  men  are  liable  to  receive  com- 
munications containing  inquiries  on  all 
kinds  of  topics,  asking  questions  on  all 
kinds  of  abstruse  subjects,  or  making 
the  most  absurd  propositions.  I  give  a 
portion  of  a  letter  I  received  from  a 
lady: 

"  I  will  state  my  circumstances  and  wishes  as  briefly 
as  possible.  I  come  to  the  point  at  once,  and  inform  you 
that  I  wish  to  get  married,  and  I  hope  you  will  think  none  the  worse  of 
me  for  thus  making  my  wants  known  to  one  who  must  have  a  large 
circle  of  acquaintances,  like  yourself.  When  a  lady  finds  her  hair  fast 
becoming  threads  of  silver,  and  the  crow's-feet  deepening  in  her  face,  it 
is  time  for  her  to  begin  to  look  out  for  herself,  if  she  would  not  spend  her 
declining  days  in  loneliness,  'unloved  and  unloving,' — a  prospect  that 

315 


316  "I   WANT   TO   GET   MARRIED." 

I  do  not  at  all  relish,  unless  I  find  that  it  be  God's  will.  If  so,  I  must 
make  the  best  of  it.  I  am  thirty-five  years  of  age ;  very  unprepossessing 
in  appearance,  having  a  dark  complexion,  plain,  sad  features ;  only  four 
feet  ten  inches  in  height;  weight  ninety  to  ninety-eight  pounds;  and 
health  quite  variable,  still  good.  Physicians  have  told  me  that  I  am 
just  as  likely  to  live  forty  years  as  any  one. 

"My  father's  home  is  in ,  away  back  in  the  countiy,  where  there 

is  not  a  gentleman  of  my  acquaintance  that  I  would  many,  even  if 
they  wished  to  marry  me.  I  wish  to  get  a  kind,  honest  man,  about  fifty 
years  of  age,  possessing  common  intelligence  and  refinement,  and  at 
least  property  sufficient  to  take  care  of  himself  and  me ;  and  he  must  be 
between  forty-five  and  sixty-five  years  of  age,  and  a  total-abstinence 
man ;  widower  preferred ;  also  one  who  would  care  more  for  home  and 
wife  than  society.  And  I,  on  my  part,  think  I  could  be  a  true  and 
affectionate  wife,  capable  of  managing  a  household,  and  willing  to  dress 
and  live  either  in  a  plain  and  economical  style,  or  luxuriously,  as  our 
mutual  views  and  circumstances  might  seem  to  require 

"And  now,  if  you  know  of  any  gentleman  that  answers  to  my  descrip- 
tion who  would  like  to  make  my  acquaintance  with  a  view  to  matri- 
mony, please  furnish  him  with  an  introduction  and  recommend  from 
yourself,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  commence  the  acquaintance  at  once, 
either  by  correspondence  or  personally."  .... 

After  giving  references,  the  lady  requests  that  — 

"  If  you  write  them  concerning  me,  I  beg  you  will  sign  a  fictitious 
name,  for  they  would  think  it  about  as  wild  in  me  to  write  to  you  as  it 
would  be  to  write  to  the  King  of  France.  I  trust,  should  you  be  so  for- 
tunate as  to  bring  about  an  acquaintance  between  two  temperance 
people,  that  it  will  be  so  managed  that  the  part  I  have  taken  in  it  may 
be  kept  a  profound  secret.  Should  you  aid  me  in  this  matter,  I  presume 
that  in  time  you  will  be  rewarded.  Yours  faithfully,  ." 

I  give  extracts  from  a  series  of  queer  letters  re- 
ceived from  a  gentleman,  as  a  specimen  of  a  class  of 
oddities  with  whom  we  have  to  deal.  He  first  pro- 
poses an  interview. 

"  DEAK  FRIEND  GOUGH  :  The  lecturing  field,  which  is  white  already 
to  harvest,  7,  the  uneducated,  unsophisticated,  simple  son  of  a  carpenter 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  conscious  of  the  powers  that  are  in  me,  am 
desirous  of  entering.  You  have  had  a  large  experience  therein,  and  may 
render  me  valuable  aid  in  the  way  of  advice,  hints,  and  suggestions ;  and 
may  possibly  point  me  to  an  opening,  if  you  will  thus  kindly  volunteer 


PROSPECTS   AND   POSSIBILITIES.  317 

your  services  on  my  behalf,  provided  it  can  be  done  without  discommod- 
ing yourself,  or  hindering  your  own  work.  If  I  could  see  you  at  your 
own  home  when  you  have  leisure,  or  some  other  place  you  might  ap- 
point, and  have  with  you  some  half  dozen  or  so  of  your  lecturing  or 
literary  friends,  I  would  in  an  unembarrassed  manner,  or  as  much  so  as 
possible,  read  to  you  a  couple  of  lectures  that  I  have  in  my  possession, 
and  shall  remodel,  entitled,  one  of  them,  'Our  Country  and  its  Brilliant 
Prospects  and  Possibilities.'  This  lecture  is  descriptive  of  the  country, 
and  of  the  people,  and  of  some  of  their  great  interests,  and  one  more  espe- 
cial than  the  rest,  their  mining  interests.  And  its  peroration  is  a  glow- 
ing description  of  the  grandeur  and  glory  that  surely  awaits  the  American 
people,  if  they  only  retain  in  each  other  unbounded  confidence,  and  exer- 
cise patience  and  perseverance  in  all  well-doing,  and  the  wealthy  out  of 
their  abundance  see  to  it  that  the  destitute  and  the  helpless  are  provided 
for  until  business  can  be  started.  Friend  Gough,  we  must  marshal  '  the 
hosts  of  God's  elect '  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  earth,  i.  e.,  the  eloquent 
orators  and  i-eformers  of  the  day,  and  exorcise  the  evil  and  ultra  spirits 
that  run  so  many  off  into  a  tangent  of  weird,  wild  fanaticism,  and  clothe 
them  in  their  right  mind,  and  show  them  their  proper  sphere.  Then 
we'll  evolve  out  of  the  present  miserable  chaos,  harmony.  Yes,  this  we 
must  do.  And  in  so  doing,  we  will  fuse  the  wills  of  the  American  people 
into  one.  This  work  accomplished,  this  nation  then  shall  demonstrate 
itself  to  all  the  world  as  the  chosen  people  of  God,  to  still  continue  lead- 
ing on  civilization,  science,  art,  invention,  philosophy,  government, 
poetiy,  commerce,  agriculture ;  and  above  all,  the  noblest  aspiratio'ns  and 
highest  aims  in  each  individual  of  the  nation,  after  purity  of  life  and 
character,  and  an  increasing  intelligence,  that  shall  know  no  stopping- 
place,  as  we  avail  ourselves  each  for  himself  of  a  careful  perusal  of  the 
life  and  characters  in  their  biography  of  the  illustrious  of  all  ages.  That 
in  that  very  act,  their  virtue,  intelligence,  lofty  principle,  and  exalted 
aims  may  from  them,  who  being  dead  (yet  thus  to  us  speak,  come,  or), 
flow  into  us  as  their  living  spirit  through  the  dead  letter  that  in  or  by 
others  as  a  substitute  they  have  left  behind  for  us.  And  in  this  way,  as 
the  American  people,  we  shall  render  ourselves  and  the  continent  and  our 
institutions  as  the  true  Archimedean  lever  that  shall  lift  a  world  from  its 
degi'adation." 

Soon  after  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  I  received  an- 
other, from  which  I  give  the  following  extracts : 

"  FRIEND  GOUGH  :  I  must 'see  you  if  I  can,  and  shake  hands  with  you, 
and  look  you  in  the  eye,  and  listen  to  the  tones  of  your  voice  in  your  own 
home,  and  if  you  have  time,  to  read  two  lectures  that  I  have.  I  have  a 
mission  to  accomplish.  The  American  people  must  be  quickened  into  a 
higher  life,  into  a  closer  unity,  a  stronger  sociality,  a  deeper  feeling  of 


318  BIG   THING   ON  ICE. 

interest  in  each  other's  welfare.  The  conscience,  the  enthusiasm,  the  as- 
pirations, and  the  will  of  the  nation  needs  at  this  particular  juncture 
greatly  qiiickening,  needs  fusing  into  one,  and  fanning  into  a  red  heat, 
that  the  exalted  destiny  of  the  nation  may,  in  the  right  direction,  be 
speedily  carried  forward;  that  genuine  intelligence  and  virtue,  and  a 
true  love  of  art,  and  science,  political  economy,  literature,  agriculture, 
commerce,  finance,  philosophy,  invention,  and  all  that  tends  to  promote 
a  high  and  true  state  of  social  unity,  may  be  promoted.  And  we  indeed 
become  the  chosen  people  of  God  to  redeem  the  earth  —  the  Archimedean 
lever  to  lift  the  world  from  its  degradation.  We  want  to  rid  ourselves 
from  all  undue  love  of  fashion,  and  pride,  and  aristocratic  notions; 
from  false  ornament,  and  an  excessive  love  of  wealth,  purely  for  a  dis- 
play ;  and  seek  to  be  giants  in  virtue  and  intelligence,  in  invention,  art, 
science,  and  philosophy.  Now,  this  is  a  big  thing  on  ice  to  be  accom- 
plished. Of  course  it  is.  '  But  there  is  a  flood  taken  at  the  tide  leads 
on  to  fortune.'  '  There  is  a  fulness  of  times '  that  in  nations  every  now 
and  then  happens.  There  is  a  period  when  the  pear  is  ripe,  and  must 
fall.  There  are  individuals  who,  like  Timothy,  inherit  from  their  mother 
Lois,  and  grandmother  Eunice,  an  unusual  quantity  and  element  of  the 
true  Promethean  fire  direct  from  the  throne  of  the  third  heavens,  so  to 
speak,  and  who  have  the  metal  that  constitutes  an  intellectual  and  moral 
batteiy,  marvellous  in  its  capacities  to  become  highly  surcharged ;  who 
have  an  ocean  of  enthusiasm,  emotion,  sensibility,  and  a  corresponding 
voice  of  tone,  modulation,  flexibility,  pathos,  power,  unction,  and  thrill- 
ing sensation  that  all  rivets  attention,  and  quickens  feeling,  and  kindles 
and  brightens  in  the  soul  of  every  one  that  listens  aspirations  after  a 
higher,  holier,  purer,  truer  life  of  virtue  and  intelligence.  There  is 
every  now  and  then  a  Peter  the  hermit,  that  comes  forth  from  a  life  of 
austerities  to  wrap  the  continent  in  a  blaze ;  a  character  simple-hearted, 
earnest,  and  burning  with  a  zeal  to  see  all  men  united  in  an  indissoluble 
band  of  brotherhood,  and  genuine  heartfelt  fellowship,  to  see  sorrow  and 
suffering  depart  if  we  will. 

"  I  am  in  my  49th  year ;  the  youngest  son  of  a  carpenter ;  was  born  of 
respectable  parents  in  a  beautiful  valley  between  two  mountains.  Inher- 
ited a  delicate  constitution,  and  throughout  nearly  my  whole  life  have  been 
much  afflicted.  In  my  young  days  I  suffered  from  a  seven  years'  spinal 
disease,  and  from  the  terrible  effects  of  that  broken-down  constitution 
have  never  fully  recovered ;  have  had,  in  addition,  many  serious  seasons 
of  sickness ;  came  once  near  dying  with  a  typhoid  fever,  and  once  with 
two  large  carbuncles  and  a  succession  of  boils,  covering  a  great  portion 
of  the  body;  have  had  the  itch,  and  have  been  1 — y;  and  have  had  almost 
countless  colds  and  curious  fevers,  indigestion,  pain  of  back  and  kidneys, 
sore  eyes,  sleepless  nights,  and  rush  of  blood  to  the  head.  Have  been 
from  early  youth  wonderfully  exercised  in  mind  over  the  tangled  snarl 
of  theological,  philosophical,  metaphysical,  social,  political,  agricultural, 


IMBIBE   LIKE   A   SPONGE.  319 

commercial,  scientific,  inventive,  and  artistic  problems  of  the  race,  that 
from  birth  have  confronted  me  in  every  conceivable  direction,  and  that 
still  in  a  great  measure  do  confront  me  with  curious  wonderment  and 
profound  questionings,  but  through  which  of  late  I  begin  more  clearly  to 
see ;  and  as  I  earnestly  gaze,  the  clouds  scatter,  and  the  cheering  rays  of 
a  celestial  sun  reach  me,  and  the  heavens  are  spanned  with  a  rainbow  of 
hope  that  brings  peace  and  assurance  to  the  soul,  and  bliss  unutterable  to 
the  whole  man.  The  waters  of  trouble  are  subsiding  and  sinking  into 
the  porous  soil  beneath  my  feet,  and  my  tread  is  felt  to  be  solid  as  I  touch 
terra  firma ;  and  I  am  assuming  the  air  and  aspect  of  a  conqueror  that 
approaches  the  burnished  spires  and  gleaming  turrets  of  the  celestial 
city,  and  coming  streaming  in  the  sunlight  upon  his  eager  visionf 
through  an  atmosphere  redolent  with  the  odor  of  exquisite  flowers  and 
ambrosia." 

I  will  omit  the  remaining  portion  of  this  letter.  My 
wife  wrote  to  him  that  I  should  probably  be  away  from 
home  at  the  time  he  proposed  calling  on  me ;  and  even 
if  I  should  not  be,  I  was  so  busily  engaged  that  I 
could  give  him  but  very  little  time,  and  therefore  I 
thought  it  would  hardly  pay  him  to  travel  so  many 
miles  for  so  small  a  result.  I  give  you  his  reply. 
After  stating  that  the  letter  was  received,  he  says : 

"This  letter  of  M.  E.  Gough  gives  me  an  insight  into  the  life  of  my 
friend  Gough  that  I  had  not  until  now  been  as  fully  impressed  with.  Can 
it  be  possible,  dear  friend  Gough,  that  your  time  and  attention  is  thus 
completely  occupied,  absorbed,  and  that  you  are  being  driven,  as  it  were, 
with  a  whirlwind  of  duties  from  the  face  of  the  earth?  Oh,  my  God  of 
Infinite  Majesty,  love  and  truth!  Is  this  the  natural  consequence  of  suc- 
cess? Why,  I  start  back  in  horror  at  the  thought!  A  man  is  not  happy 
until  he  gets  at  that  that  he  has  a  faculty  for,  and  then  because  he  can 
do  that  thing  well,  forsooth  must  everybody  hunt  him  down  as  though  he 
were  a  wild  hyena?  Now  I  do  most  earnest!}'  protest  against  all  this  non- 
sense that  we  have  got  agoing  on  upon  this  planet.  The  fact  of  it  is 
that  our  American  people  want  to  be  preached  and  preached  and  preached, 
and  lectured  and  lectured  and  lectured  to,  until  they  are  preached  and 
lectured  to  death  and  the  devil ;  and  get  to  be  as  lazy  as  they  can  stick 
in  their  hides,  morally  and  intellectually  lazy.  They  want  to  imbibe 
and  imbibe  and  imbibe,  like  a  huge  sponge,  and  give  nothing  forth.  In 
a  word,  they  have  become  moral  and  intellectual  misers,  moral  and  intel- 
lectual effeminates,  babies,  great  grown  calves,  who  will  have  you  con- 
tinually a-chewing  their  food  for  them,  putting  it  into  their  mouths  and 
a-wabbling  their  jaws,  and  a-rubbing  their  blood  into  circulation,  and 


320  SHANGHAI   SHYSTERS. 

thus  ever  keeping  them  babies  that  can  communicate  nothing.  Now  I 
move  that  we  go  to  work  to  stop  this  thing,  in  order  to  save  our  public 
teachers  from  the  most  abject  drudgery,  slavery,  oppression,  tyranny, 
cruelty.  Who  wants  to  succeed  as  an  orator  if  he  must  be  hounded  off 
of  the  face  of  the  earth  by  the  public,  who  can't  talk  themselves  because 
they  are  two  infernal  lazy  to  make  the  effort?  Do  you  know  that  such 
a  state  of  things,  if  I  was  a  successful  orator,  would  make  me  as  indig- 
nant as  the  prophet  Elijah!  Well,  you  can  just  bet  your  life  it  would, 
and  I  know  full  well  that  I'd  have  to  hold  as  tight  fast  to  my  old  arm- 
chair as  I  could  to  keep  from  going  off  half-cocked,  a-cussing  like  a  blue 
streak.  Well,  you  see,  the  idea  is  just  this :  When  men  and  women  have 
read  and  listened  for  a  long  time  to  earnest  teachers  and  books,  they 
should  be  able  to  communicate  their  ideas  as  well  as  the  next  one.  They 
should  have  become  splendid  conversationalists.  What  has  God  given 
them  a  tongue  for?  There  is  plenty  around  them  steeped  in  ignorance, 
who  labor  under  such  disadvantages  of  birth,  education,  and  circum- 
stances of  poverty,  that  they  can't  find  out  what  is  for  the  best  for  them 
in  hardly  anything;  and  these  lazy  imbibers  of  knowledge  and  oratory 
can  do  nothing  for  these  poor  souls,  who  are  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd 
because  they  won't  put  forth  a  solitary  effort  to  waggle  their  own  tongues 
glibly  as  they  might,  if  they  would  only  give  themselves  that  practice 
that  makes  perfect;  but  they  must  go  on  oppressing,  and  make  unright- 
eous demands  upon  the  public  orators  of  the  day  until  they  push  them 
into  the  grave.  The  idea  of  a  public's  inexorably  demanding  of  its  ora- 
tors to  go  on,  go  on,  keep  right  on,  pandering  to  their  great  big  morbid 
mouth  and  unnatural  appetite  for  sweetmeats  that  false  custom  has  given 
them,  just  because  they  (the  orators)  have  cultivated  with  success  their 
oratorical  powers.  I  don't  see  the  point,  and  I  wouldn't  see  the  point 
had  I  climbed  to  the  very  highest  summit  of  success.  No,  sir!  'All 
that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life.'  'Necessity  knows  no  law.' 
All  institutions  were  made  for  men,  not  to  defeat  their  own  object  and 
crush  men.  If  there  is  anything  on  earth  that  would  come  any  nearer 
(than  this  crushing  of  my  soul,  brain,  and  body)  to  making  me  fall  from 
grace,  I  don't  know  what  it  could  be.  The  idea  that  a  great  set  of  grown 
calves  and  baby  imbeciles  who  were  too  lazy  or  too  proud  to  use  their 
own  tongues  should  want  me  to  talk  myself  to  death !  Now  do  you  know 
that  I  couldn't  be  put  upon  that  way :  my  wrath  would  boil  over  when 
such  animals  came  after  me,  and  ten  chances  to  one,  as  good-natured  as 
I  generally  am,  if  I  wouldn't  suddenly  forget  myself  and  bawl  out  before 
I  knew  it,  'Go  to —  Huckleberry  Hill!  you  infernal,  lazy  scoundrels! 
You  think  my  stomach 's  lined  with  copper,  and  my  throat  with  brass, 
and  my  lungs  with  iron,  do  you  ?  Well,  if  you  don't,  you  act  as  though 
you  did.  Mercy  is  not  in  your  vocabulary  or  creed ;  you  don't  seem  to 
know  anything  about  such  an  article ;  with  you  it's  one  of  the  lost  arts. 
Well,  I'll  kick  a  little  into  you,  you  unmerciful  Shanghai  Shysters !'.... 
I  had  thought  of  getting  you  to  help  me  to  get  started  as  a  lecturer, 


FORTY   IN  MIND.  321 

for  I  am  burning  up  with  the  burden  of  a  mission.  But,  O  heavens! 
I  now  start  back  amazed  at  the  thought.  I  would  like  to  see  you,  and 
have  a  pleasant  chat  with  you,"  etc.,  etc. 

I  suppose  every  lecturer  has  applications  for  his  old 
lectures,  but  probably  very  few  are  applied  to  for  their 
name.  Here  is  an  aspirant  for  fame,  who  desires  to 
gather  inspiration  and  gain  a  name  at  the  same  time. 
He  says: 

"Is  there  a  chance  of  my  making  arrangements  to  travel  with  you? 
I  want  to  lecture,  and  I  must  be  a  good  one  or  none  at  all.  I  do  it  for 
charity's  sake  more  than  money.  I  have  some  written  lectures  on  hand. 
I  am  only  twenty-two  years  in  age,  but  forty  in  mind.  I  wish  to  travel 
with  you,  and  adopt  your  name  and  style,  and  perpetuate  it.  I  am  very 
ambitious,  and  it  would  save  me  twenty  years'  hard  labor  if  I  could  get 

an  introduction  through  you My  hobby  is  to  be  a  lecturer.     My 

phrenology  says  I  would  make  a  good  lecturer.  I  am  a  good  composer; 
will  give  you  all  particulars  when  I  receive  your  answer.  Excuse  haste. 
Please  give  this  your  kind  attention.  I  should  like  to  take  your  place 
as  you  are  turning  over  the  last  page  of  your  life  perhaps.  In  haste. 
Yours,  &c." 

Very  flattering! 

A  gentleman  writes  that  he  is  about  to  start  a  news- 
paper, and  shall  commence  canvassing  for  it,  and  if  he 
could  deliver  lectures  as  he  passed  through  the  coun- 
try, it  would  be  a  help  to  him.  Would  I  send  him  two 
of  my  worn-out  lectures,  as  they  would  be  fresh  in 
the  region  in  which  he  should  canvass,  and  I  should 
never  want  them  any  more,  and  he  will  never  let  any 
one  know  they  are  mine !  Flattering  again ! 

Another  writes  for  a  "  moddle  lecture."  He  says : 

"  Being  in  need  of  a  moddle  lecture,  I  send  to  you  for  assistance.  My 
request  is,  that  you  will  please  compose  a  moddle  lecture  from  the  extracts 
of  your  old  lectures,  and  give  it  a  subject —  a  lecture  that  will  take  about 
one  hour  to  repeat  it.  I  have  heard  of  no  man  that  can  tie  a  lecture  to- 
gether with  choice  anecdotes  such  as  you  can,  and  indeed,  sir,  eloquence 
has  distilled  her  choicest  nectar  upon  your  lips.  I  have  spoken  several 
times  on  temperance.  If  you  wish  any  recommendations  as  to  charac- 
ter, apply,"  etc.,  etc. 

20 


322  THAT  REMINDS   ME. 

Now,  as  to  a  "  moddle  lecture,"  I  hardly  know  how 
to  prepare  one.  I  will  here  give  a  few  hints  to  any 
who  may  be  fired  with  the  same  ambition.  Your  sub- 
ject might  be  "Reminders."  You  can  introduce  it 
by  stating  briefly  or  at  length,  according  to  the  time 
you  have,  that  for  a  conversation  it  is  necessary  to  start 
a  theme,  and  then  all  is  easy.  Describe  a  company  of 
people  sitting  dull  and  silent,  with  nothing  to  say; 
no  subject  to  interest  them.  How  shall  they  engage 
in  a  stirring  game  of  conversation?  Let  some  one 
tell  a  story,  no  matter  what  it  is,  and  it  will  be  sure  to 
remind  some  one  of  the  company  of  something  else. 
There  you  are,  —  "  that  reminds  me  "  of  a  man  who 
had  but  one  story,  and  that  was  about  a  gun.  He  would 
impatiently  watch,  when  in  company,  for  a  chance  to 
repeat  his  story.  When  all  was  still,  he  would  let  fall 
a  book,  or  stamp  with  his  feet,  then  start  and  say : 
"  Oh  dear,  how  it  startled  me !  It  reminded  me  of  a 
gun.  Talking  of  guns,  ' reminds  me,'" — and  then 
came  the  story. 

"  This  story  of  a  gun  reminds  me  of  a  famous 
hunter,  who  had  shot  tigers  in  Africa.  Conversing 
with  a  German  about  sport,  he  said,  '  I  care  nothing 
for  sport,  unless  there  is  an  element  of  danger  in  it.' 
The  German  replies,  'Ah!  you  vant  danger?  "Veil, 
you  go  shoot  mit  me,  dere  vill  be  de  danger.  Yy,  I 
shoot  my  brother  in  his  stomich,  t'oder  day ! '  Talking 
of  shooting  reminds  me  of  the  man  who  had  a  heavy 
charge  in  his  gun,  and  taking  aim  at  a  squirrel,  fired. 
Over  went  he,  and  the  squirrel  ran  twittering  up  the 
tree.  t  Oh ! '  said  he,  as  he  picked  himself  up,  *  if 
you  had  been  at  this  end  of  the  gun,  you  would  not 
have  run  so  fast.'  That  reminds  me  of  two  negroes, 
who  were  out  shooting,  and  coming  to  a  wolf's  hole, 


WHAT   DARKS   DE   HOLE.  323 

one  said,  '  Dar 's  a  wolf's  hole.'   '  I  reckon  dar  is,'  said 
Jem.     'I  wonder  wedder  de  ole  mi's  in  dat  hole.' 

*  Dar  ain't  no  wolf  in  dat  hole,  it  don't  look  like  dar 
was  a  wolf  dar.    I  reckon  dar 's  young  uns.'  '  Reckon 
dar  may  be  young  uns:  s'pose  you  go  in  dar,  Cuff, 
and  see  wedder  dar  is  or  not.'     '  Go  in  yourself,  Jem. 
I'll  stand  at  de  hole  and  watch  for  de  wolf.     If  I  see 
him  coming  I'll  let  you  know.'     'All  right ;'  and  Jem 
crept  into  the  hole.     Soon  the  wolf  came  up  with  a 
swinging  trot,  and  made  straight  for  the  hole.     Cuff 
was  too  late,  and  could  only  seize  the  wolf's  tail,  and 
then  it  was,  pull  wolf  and  pull  Cuff,  the  wolf's  body 
completely  filling  the  hole.     Jem   said,  '  Cuff,  what 
makes  de  hole  so  dark?'     'Is  de  hole  dark?'     'It's 
all  darkened  up,  what  makes  it? '   '  Well,  I  reckon,  if 
dis  wolf's  tail  comes  loose,  you  know  what  makes  de 
hole  so  dark.'     Talking  of  negroes  reminds  me  of  a 
colored  man  who,  when  asked  whether  he  knew  the 
way  to  a  certain  place,  said,    '  I  wish  I  had  as  many 
dollars  as  I  know  where   dat   place  is.'     This  mis- 
take   of  the  negro  reminds  me  of  a  Dutchman,  who 
wanted  a  man  to  go  out  of  his  store,  and  said,  '  Go 
out  of  my  store.     If  you  don't  go  out  of  my  store, 
I'll  get  a  policeman  vot  vill.'     Talking  of  Dutchmen, 
reminds  me  of  two  who  went  into  Delmonico's  and  got 
lunch.     The  price  was  higher  than  they  expected,  and 
one  of  them  was  very  angry,  and  began  to  swear. 

*  Yot's  de  matter? '   '  Matter  enough ;  noine  tollars  for 
a  lunch,  —  I  vill  swear! '     'Ah,  nefer  mind,'  said  the 
other,  '  nefer  mind.    The  Lord  has  punished  dat  Del- 
monico  already,  very  bad.'     'How  has  he  punished 
him?'     '  Vy,  I've  got  my  pocket  full  of  his  spoons.' 
Talking  of  spoons  reminds  me  of  a  politician," —  and 


324  AUTOGRAPH   TRAP. 

so  you  get  into  politics  and  finish  your  lecture 
ad  lib.  I  think  these  are  suggestions  for  a  "  moddle  " 
lecture. 

To  some  men,  the  practice  of  requesting  autographs 
is  a  nuisance  and  a  bore.  I  have  never  had  any  ob- 
jections to  giving  or  sending  an  autograph,  when  a 
stamped  and  directed  envelope  is  enclosed  with  the 
request.  I  regard  it  as  very  small  to  send  for  an 
autograph  without  the  stamp.  Yet,  I  have  learned 
to  be  careful  in  the  reply,  especially  if  more  words  are 
sent  than  the  mere  signature.  I  was  in  the  habit  of 
writing,  "  I  cheerfully  comply  with  your  request," 
till  I  received  a  letter  thanking  me  for  a  sum  of 
money  sent,  and  requesting  a  further  remittance. 
The  letter  was  so  very  plain  in  the  statement  that  I 
had  sent  a  certain  sum  on  a  certain  date,  and  stating 
that  nothing  would  be  said  about  it  if  I  sent  another 
sum,  but  that  if  I  did  not,  I  might  hear  of  something 
unpleasant.  It  startled  me,  and  I  asked  a  friend 
connected  with  the  police  what  he  thought  of  it,  (after 
I  had  satisfied  myself  that  the  letter  was  intended 
for  me,  and  for  no  one  else.)  He  said: 

"  I  think  it  is  a  trap.  Let  me  see  —  do  you  ever 
send  autographs  by  mail?" 

"Yes,  I  send  very  often." 

"  Do  you  write  more  than  the  signature  ?  " 

I  then  told  him  that  I  generally  wrote,  "  I  cheerfully 
comply  with  your  request." 

He  said:  "Never  do  that' again,  unless  you  know 
the  person  you  send  to.  Always  insert  the  words  '  for 
an  autograph.' ' 

"When  I  asked,  "  Why?"  he  said: 

"  Don't  you  see,  if  any  person  wished  to  make  a 
charge  against  you  for  sending  money  for  any  pur- 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  325 

pose  not  very  reputable,  they  have  you  at  a  disadvan- 
tage by  the  possession  of  your  letter?  They  may  say, 
1 1  sent  a  request  to  him  for  a  hundred  dollars,  and  I 
take  my  oath  that  I  received  a  hundred  dollars  in  this 
envelope  with  these  words,  '  I  cheerfully  comply  with 
your  request; '  for  any  person  who  would  attempt 
such  a  game  as  that,  would  not  hesitate  to  take  a  false 
oath." 

Since  then  I  have  sent  autographs  in  such  a  shape 
as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  their  being  used  for 
improper  purposes. 

To  many,  the  application  for  autographs  is  consid- 
ered as  impertinent.  Dr.  Chalmers  wrote  the  follow- 
ing letter  to  a  gentleman  who  had  requested  an 
autograph : 

"  EDINBURGH,  17th  September,  1846. 

"SiR:  I  received  both  your  letters.  The  first  I  laid  aside,  because 
of  my  great  aversion  to  any  direct  application  for  my  autograph,  and  in 
virtue  of  which  it  is  my  general  practice  to  leave  all  such  requests 
unanswered.  Your  second  letter,  of  May  6th,  I  placed  among  the  letters 
to  which  I  might  reply,  because  I  felt  a  wish  at  the  time  to  let  you  know 
the  grounds  of  my  antipathy  to  a  practice  which  I  think  is  not  in  accord- 
ance with  good  taste.  I  find,  however,  that  I  have  not  time  for  the  full 
statement  of  these  grounds,  and  shall  only  say,  in  the  general,  that  I 
feel  as  if,  on  the  one  side,  the  making  of  such  a  request  implies  a  certain 
degree  of  indelicacy,  and,  on  the  other  side,  that  in  the  granting  of  it 
there  must  be  a  certain  sense  of  awkwardness,  as  the  very  act  involves 
at  least  the  semblance  of  vanity.  And  yet  the  desire  of  having  auto- 
graphs is  legitimate  and  natural;  but  the  right  way  to  go  about  the 
formation  of  a  collection  is  to  seek,  and  not  from  the  person  himself,  but 
from  any  of  his  correspondents,  such  letters  or  fragments  of  his  hand- 
writing as  can  anywhere  be  found.  I  should  imagine  that,  to  every 
man  who  feels  as  he  ought,  a  naked  request  for  his  autograph  must  be 
extremely  distasteful.  In  sending  you  this  autograph,  it  is  a  relief  that 
I  should  have  something  to  write  about ;  and  all  the  more  so,  that  along 
with  the  autograph  you  have  my  testimony  against  the  method  in 
which  they  are  sometimes  sought  after,  both  by  individuals  and  by  such 
public  bodies  as  you  represent.  With  the  best  wishes  for  the  prosperity 
of  your  museum,  I  have  the  honor  to  be,  sir, 

"  Yours  truly,  THOMAS  CHALMERS." 


326  DEMAND   FOR  PHOTOGRAPHS. 

The  demand  for  photographs  is  "  very  like  a  bore." 
There  is  a  pleasure  in  giving  these  to  relatives  and 
real  friends.  We  all  fancy  there  are  a  few  who  really 
care  to  possess  our  likeness  for  the  regard  they  have 
towards  us  personally.  But  the  demand  for  photo- 
graphs is  not  limited  to  friends,  or  even  acquaint- 
ances. One  who  has  ever  seen  you,  or  has  seen  any- 
body that  has  seen  you,  or  knows  any  one  who  says 
he  has  seen  you,  or  thinks  he  may  have  seen  you, 
considers  himself  entitled  to  make  you  pay  twenty- 
five  cents,  more  or  less,  for  a  photograph  to  put  in  his 
book.  He  may  not  care  a  straw  about  you  or  your 
likeness ;  he  has  a  book  and  means  to  fill  it,  and  your 
picture  will  help  accomplish  the  desired  object.  "When 
these  photographic  albums  were  first  introduced,  the 
demand  was  almost  intolerable.  Men  were  asked  to 
exchange,  and  a  picture  of  some  one  you  knew 
nothing  about  was  sent,  demanding  yours  in  return. 
But  now  I  am  thankful  to  say  that  the  novelty  has 
worn  off,  and  the  demand  is  much  less  than  here- 
tofore. 

I  do  not  condemn  the  system  utterly:  I  think  it  is 
useful,  ornamental,  agreeable,  delightful,  and  all  that; 
but  it  may  be  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  and  it  is  hardly 
fair  that  you  should  be  accounted  a  bear,  or  uncivil, 
because  you  do  not  send  to  all  and  everybody,  known 
or  unknown,  who  choose  to  ask  your  photograph.  I 
have  seen  some  comical  arrangements  of  these  pic- 
tures in  the  books.  Think  of  Canon  Farrar  face  to 
face  with  Maud  Somebody  in  character,  or  Dean 
Stanley  with  Miss  Yiolante  in  costume,  or  Dr.  Taylor 
of  New  York  face  to  face  with  Madame  What's-her- 
name  of  the  opera  louffe,  or  Mr.  Spurgeon  vis-a-vis 
with  Sarah  Bernhardt,  Frederick  Douglas  face  to 


PHOTOGKAPH   COLLECTORS.  327 

face  with  Toombs,  and  so  on!  And  the  mere  col- 
lectors of  photographs  will  place  you  side  by  side 
with  Tom  Thumb  or  the  Gorilla.  Now,  I  have  an 
idea  that  all  men  possess  the  right  to  some  considera- 
tion as  to  where  they  shall  be  placed  even  in  a  photo- 
graph album.  We  all  have  our  tastes ;  and,  without 
being  invidious,  I  must  confess  that  I  should  rather 
not  be  mixed  up  even  in  an  album  with  the  ladies  of 
the  variety  shows,  or  the  singers  of  the  opera  bouffe. 


CHAPTER  XXHI. 

UNENDURABLE  BORES.  —  MY  EXPERIENCES  WITH 
THEM.  —  AFFECTATION  AND  "STYLE." 

A  Class  of  Bores  —  An  Aggravating  Case  —  Its  Sequel  —  Incident  ol  a 
Lecture — Two  Hingham  Callers  —  The  Brilliant  Young  Man  in  a 
Joking  Mood  —  The  Conundrum,  "Canaan"  —  "Old  Dog  Tray"  — 
President  Woolsey  and  the  Joking  Boy  — Cultivation  of  Affectation  — 
Indifference  —  Imitating  Enthusiasm  —  Affectation  turning  into  a 
"Lithp" — Unstylish  Persons  in  Style  —  Tarts  "  Fourpence  a-Piece, 
Ma'am  "  —  Late-Comers  in  Church  and  Lecture  —  "  Who  art  thou?  " 
—  An  Officer  of  Her  Majesty's  Service  —  Making  Puns  —  Dealing 
with  the  Superlative  in  Conversation  —  Common  Mistakes  —  Petty 
Expressions  —  "Lor',  how  cunning!"  —  Exaggerations  in  Speech  — 
Trivial  Faults  mar  the  Enjoyments  of  Life. 

HERE  is  a  class  of  bores  that  are 
almost  unendurable,  that  are  self-suf- 
ficient, confident,  obtrusive,  and  annoy- 
ing. They  will  call  upon  you  and  in- 
sist on  an  interview.  Perhaps,  having 
set  yourself  at  a  task  for  the  day,  you 
are  interrupted  by  some  vexatious  per- 
son who  will  hinder  you  in  your  work, 
taking  up  your  valuable  tune  with  his  ab- 
surdities. Patronizing  in  his  demeanor,  he  seems  to 
feel  that  he  is  conferring  a  great  favor  by  detaining 
you  from  important  avocations.  So  exacting  is  he  in 
his  demands  on  your  time,  that  to  get  rid  of  him  you 
must  be  guilty  of  positive  rudeness. 

328 


"KNOW   MY  FATHER?"  329 

I  remember  one  instance  among  many.  I  was 
quietly  reading,  one  summer  day,  under  the  trees, 
when  the  servant  announced  that  a  gentleman  wished 
to  see  me. 

"Who  is  he?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

" Did  he  give  his  name?" 

"  ]STo,  sir." 

"  Where  is  he?  " 

"  At  the  front  door,  in  a  buggy." 

So,  hoping  that  he  would  not  keep  me  long,  I  went 
to  the  front  door;  there  sat  a  young  gentleman  in  an 
open  buggy. 

"  How  do  ye  do,  Grough?  " 

"  How  do  you  do,  sir?  " 

"  Don't  know  me?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Don't  know  me?    Look  at  me." 

I  looked  at  him. 

"  Now  don't  you  know  me?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  I  do  not  recollect  you." 

"  Why,  you  stopped  at  my  father's  house  once, 
when  I  was  a  boy.  Know  my  father?  " 

"  No." 

"Don't  know  my  father?  Well,  I  do.  Ha,  ha! 
that's  a  joke.  Well,  how  do  you  do?  I  got  a  buggy 
in  Worcester,  and  drove  out  here  on  purpose  to  see 

you." 

"  Will  you  walk  in?  I  will  see  that  your  horse  is 
hitched." 

He  walked  with  me  into  the  parlor. 

I  have  a  framed  picture  near  the  door,  entitled 
"The  Return  from  the  Deer-Stalking:"  a  woman  is 


330  HISTORY   OF   GUANO. 

rowing  a  boat  across  the  loch,  while  a  gentleman  in  a 
hunting  cap  and  dress  is  in  the  stern. 

"When  he  saw  it,  he  said : 

"Ah,  a  picture !  "  holding  his  half-closed  hand  to  his 
eyes  to  get  a  good  sight.  "  That's  a  good  picture. 
Queen  Victoria  and  Prince  Albert,  I  suppose?  " 

I  said,  "  Hardly !  Queen  Victoria  would  not  very 
likely  row  a  boat  across  the  loch." 

"Ah,  I  dare  say;  but  you've  been  to  England,  and 
it  struck  me  that  was  the  Queen." 

Turning  to  another  picture  called  "  Langdale  Pikes," 
he  said1,  —  going  through  the  same  motions  with  his 
hand,  —  "Ah,  a  very  pretty  farm  scene." 

I  said,  "  That  is  not  a  farm  scene ;  that  is  a  view  of 
Langdale  Pikes  in  Cumberland." 

"Yes.  Well,  I  see  some  cows  there,  and  didn't 
know  but  it  was  an  English  farm  scene.  Been  to 
England,  you  know.  By  the  way,  I  want  to  see  your 
library." 

I  took  him  into  the  room. 

As  he  looked  around,  he  said :  "  "What  a  lot  of 
books!  Here's  where  you  cook  up  your  lectures,  eh? 
read  'em  all?" 

And  so  he  went  round  the  room,  talking  nonsense, 
till  he  came  to  the  two  volumes  of  the  History  of 
British  Guiana. 

"  Oh,  there,  I  knew  you  were  a  practical  man !  I 
like  practical  men.  You're  a  farmer,  and  here's  the 
book!  I  see  you  are  practical." 

I  said,  "What  has  that  book  to  do  with  farming?" 

"  Why,  don't  you  see,  the  History  of  British  Gua- 
no? That's  practical  —  learn  its  history  before  you 
use  it!" 


CAPITAL    ILLUSTRATION.  331 

And  so  for  three  mortal  hours  did  that  gentleman 
nearly  drive  me  wild. 

A  circumstance  occurred  some  years  after,  in  con- 
nection with  this  visit,  and  I  give  it  as  a  sequel.  It  is 
so  ridiculously  absurd  that  one  can  scarcely  believe  it 
to  be  possible,  but  I  record  the  simple  fact.  I  give 
no  names;  and  if  the  individual  should  happen  to 
read  this,  he  would  not  probably  recognize  the  picture 
as  any  representation  of  himself.  I  was  stopping  in 
the  hotel  of  the  town  where  I  was  to  lecture  that 
evening,  when  this  gentleman  called,  who  said  he  had 
come  to  town  to  hear  my  lecture.  "We  chatted  a 
while,  and  he  left  me.  While  I  was  speaking,  I  saw 
him  in  the  audience.  Soon  I  came  to  a  point  where  I 
needed  an  illustration  of  the  stolidity  or  stupidity  of 
a  regular  bore,  when  the  idea  seized  me  —  "  Why  not 
use  this  gentleman's  visit  at  my  house?  Ah,  it  would 
be  too  barefaced."  The  temptation  grew  on  me,  and 
as  I  was  speaking  I  argued  the  point.  "  I  do  not  be- 
lieve he  will  take,  yet  it  will  hardly  do."  Still  I 
seemed  to  be  seized  with  an  almost  irresistible  desire 
to  use  the  circumstance  of  his  visit.  Perhaps  it  was 
impudent,  but  I  did  it.  As  I  looked  on  his  face,  and 
remembered  him  at  my  house,  the  risk  of  his  taking 
it  grew  less,  and  I  told  the  whole  story  through.  He 
seemed  to  enjoy  it,  for  he  laughed  when  others 
laughed.  After  the  lecture  was  over,  he  called  on  me 
at  the  hotel.  Now,  I  thought,  I  shall  catch  it;  but  to 
my  utter  surprise,  he  said : 

"Well,  Gough,  I  enjoyed  your  lecture  first-rate; 
but  the  best  part  of  the  whole  was  about  that  man 
who  called  on  you;  for  don't  you  remember  I  called 
at  your  house  once,  and  I  remember  your  library  and 
pictures.  It  was  first-rate." 


332  ANNOYING  INTERRUPTION. 

It  is  almost  past  belief  that  any  man  should  be  so 
obtuse,  but  so  it  was. 

Many  years  ago,  during  my  residence  in  Roxbury, 
and  before  my  wife  had  learned  to  refuse  me  to  all 
and  any  who  might  call  while  I  was  resting  for  the 
evening's  work,  two  ladies  called,  and  wished  very 
much  to  see  me. 

My  wife  said,  "  Mr.  Gough  is  resting." 

"We  will  keep  him  but  a  minute.  We  came  from 
out  of  town,  and  very  much  wish  to  see  him." 

'  V 

So  I  was  called,  and  came  into  the  room  half 
asleep  and  in  not  very  good-humor.  There  were  two 
large  ladies  seated  on  the  sofa,  who  looked  at  me,  and 
then  very  complacently  smiled  on  each  other. 

"Ladies,  did  you  wish  to  see  me?" 

"  Yes,  we  called  on  purpose  to  see  you." 

"  What  did  you  want?  " 

"  Oh,  we  do  not  want  anything.  We  live  in  Hing- 
ham,  and  we've  heard  you  lecture,  and  we  was  in 
Roxbury,  and  we  found  out  where  you  lived,  and  we 
don't  want  anything  but  we  thought  we  would  like  to 
see  how  you  looked  in  the  day-time,  for  we've  never 
seen  you  except  in  the  evening !  " 

"Is  that  all?" 

"  Yes,  that's  all  we  wanted." 

"  Good  afternoon,  ladies." 

And  I  went  back  to  my  room  with  my  rest-  com- 
pletely broken  by  the  curiosity  that  desired  to  see  how 
I  looked  in  the  day-time. 

A  very  disagreeable  person  often  met  in  society,  is 
the  young  man  who  has  an  idea  he  is  very  brilliant. 
Woe  be  to  the  party  he  patronizes.  He  will  interrupt 
the  most  interesting  conversation  with  his  inanities. 
He  has  an  idea  he  is  original,  and  will  bore  you  with 


AN   ORIGINAL   CONUNDRUM.  333 

puns,  jokes,  or  conundrums,  worked  out  with  labori- 
ous effort  at  his  leisure,  and  brought  forward  at  the 
most  inopportune  occasions  as  a  fresh  scintillation 
of  his  wonderful  genius.  Think  of  a  dunce  like  this 
interrupting  a  pleasant  social  chat  with  —  "  Ah,  here 
you  are!  I've  got  something  for  you,  perfectly 
original.  I  made  it  last  night  —  that  is  —  I  thought 
of  it  last  night.  It's  a  conundrum  —  perfectly  origi- 
nal, I  assure  you.  Would  you  like  to  hear  my  co- 
nundrum? You  never  heard  any  one  like  it,  and 
never  will.  It's  my  own  —  perfectly  original.  I  have 
not  even  had  a  suggestion.  It  came  to  me  last  night 
like  an  inspiration.  There  was  no  shape  to  it  when 
it  came,  but  I  have  rounded  it  out  and  filled  it  in 
till  it  has  become  a  symmetrical  conundrum,  per- 
fectly original.  Would  you  like  to  hear  my  conun- 
drum? You  will  never  be  able  to  guess  it." 

Not  at  all  discouraged  by  the  evident  annoyance  of 
the  party  he  is  boring,  he  goes  on :  "  Now,  I'll  tell  you ! 
Prepare  to  be  astonished;  its  perfectly  original.  What 
town  in  New  York  is  like  —  is  like  —  Pshaw !  now 
I  had  it  all  right.  What  town  in  New  York  State  is 
like  —  What  town  is  like  —  m  —  m  —  dear  me  ! 
how  strange !  I  had  it  all  right.  Oh,  ah,  yes !  What 
town  in  New  York  State  is  like  the  promised  land? 
That's  it!  Do  you  give  it  up?  Can't  you  guess? 
No?  I  knew  you  couldn't.  Now  for  a  surprise. 
You  never  could  guess  it.  What  town  in  New  York 
State  is  like  the  promised  land?  Why,  Canandaigua, 
to  be  sure.  Don't  you  see  it?  No?  That's  because 
it's  original,  and  an  entirely  new  idea.  Canandaigua. 
See!  cut  the  word  in  two,  and  throw  away  the  daigua, 
and  there  you  have  it:  Canan.  Only  pronounce  Canan, 
Canaan.  Ha,  ha!  is  not  that  original?"  All  this 


334  OLD   DOG  TRAY. 

without  a  word  being  spoken  other  than  by  himself? 
he  being  sole  talker,  both  in  questioning  and  answer- 
ing. Hearing  no  reply,  he  passes  on,  thinking  they 
must  be  overwhelmed  by  the  originality  of  the  conun- 
drum, and  he  approaches  another  group,  to  disturb,  it 
may  be,  another  conversation.  He  will  appropriate 
any  person's  story,  and  attempt  to  tell  it,  generally 
failing  in  the  point;  for  he  has  no  idea  of  the  joke, 
except  that  the  listeners  have  laughed,  and  he  thereby 
suspects  there  is  a  joke  somewhere. 

Once  in  a  party,  where  I  was  present,  there  were 
groups  gathered  both  in  the  drawing-room  and  li- 
brary. In  the  former,  a  gentleman  was  amusing  the 
company  with  some  jokes  that  seemed  to  take,  as  the 
roars  of  laughter  testified.  One  thing  he  said  was: 
"  Poets  do  not  always  tell  the  truth.  Many  of  their 
sentiments  are  false ;  for  instance,  '  Old  dog  Tray 's 
ever  faithful.'  That  is  not  true:  it  may  be  poetry, 
but  it's  not  fact;  for  how  can  old  dog  Tray  be  faith- 
ful, if  he  betray?"  "Ha,  ha!  very  good,"  was  the 
response ;  and  a  genial  chorus  of  laughter  filled  the 
room.  One  young  gentleman  caught  the  idea  in  part, 
and  knowing  it  had  pleased  one  party,  rushed  into  the 
library,  and  cried  out,  "  Oh,  I've  got  something  for 
you :  it's  very  good  —  capital !  *  Old  dog  Tray 's  ever 
faithful '  is  not  true:  it's  poetry,  but  not  fact;  for  how 
can  old  dog  Tray  be  faithful  if  his  name  is  Tray? 
Ha,  ha!  "  —  laughing  almost  frantically  himself,  till  he 
sees  the  sober  faces  of  the  group,  when  he  went  back 
to  the  gentleman  who  had  told  the  story,  and  inter- 
rupted him  by  saying,  "Oh,  look  here;  your  story 
doesn't  take  in  the  other  room !  " 

Some  persons  neither  appreciate  nor  repeat  an- 
other's joke  correctly.  I  was  told  that  in  New 


INSUFFERABLE   AFFECTATION".  335 

Haven  a  gentleman  of  this  class  was  walking  with 
President  Woolsey,  of  Yale,  when  a  boy  fell  down. 

"Boy,  how  did  you  happen  to  fall  down?"  asked 
President  Woolsey. 

The  boy's  reply  was,  "  Notwithstanding." 
"  Very  good,"  said  the  President;  "don't  you  think 
so?" 

"  I  didn't  see  anything  in  it." 
. "  But  did  you  not  hear  what  the  boy  said?  " 
"  Yes ;  but  I  did  not  see  any  point." 
"  But  I  did,  and  thought  it  was  very  good." 
They  separated,  and  the  obtuse  gentleman  said  soon 
after  to  a  friend,  "  A  little  thing  occurred  on  the  street 
just  now  that   seemed  to  please  President  Woolsey, 
but  I  didn't  see  anything  in  it.     A  boy  fell  down,  and 
the  President  asked  him  how  he  happened  to   fall 
down,  and  the  boy  said  '  Nevertheless,'  and  I  didn't 
see  the  point." 

Some  one  has  said  that  affectation  is  a  "  deformity 
acquired;  "  and  many  young  people  cultivate  affecta- 
tion till  it  grows  into  a  habit ;  and  some  begin  with 
being  ridiculous,  and  often  end  in  being  immoral  and 
vicious.  Hamlet  says  to  the  queen,  "  Assume  a  virtue, 
if  you  have  it  not."  But  there  are  men  who  will  assume 
an  absurdity,  and  even  a  vice.  You  can  comprehend 
how  a  man  may  pretend  to  be  witty,  frank,  honest, 
amiable,  generous,  or  even  pious,  but  not  so  easy  to 
understand  why  one  should  pretend  to  weaknesses, 
defects,  or  demerits.  What  an  extremely  insufferable 
affectation  is  that  of  indifference  or  insensibility  — 
interested  in  nothing.  Ask  such  an  one  if  he  saw  the 
Alps  when  abroad. 

"  Ah,  I  believe  I  did  see  some  mountains  somewhere 


336  ADORE   A 

with  snow  and  ice,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  with  gla- 
ciers, I  think  they  call  them." 

The  opposite  extreme  is  an  affectation  of  enthu- 
siasm, going  into  raptures  on  the  slightest  occasion. 
Laman  Blanchard  tells  of  a  lady  throwing  up  her 
eyes  and  clasping  her  hands,  as  she  exclaimed,  "  Oh, 
I  have  such  a  passion  for  roast  veal ! "  They  will 
adore  a  bonnet,  or  give  all  the  world  for  a  new 
fashion. 

Some  indulge  in  the  affectation  of  defective  utter- 
ance till  it  grows  into  a  confirmed  habit,  'introduthing 
a  lithp,  ath  if  there  wath  a  muthical  charm  in  a  lithp ; ' 
or  a  drawl,  to  make  the  most  of  the  few  words  at 
their  command. 

Others  cultivate  the  disagreeable  and  absurd  affec- 
tation of  introducing  a  giggle  after  every  sentence, 
and  often  in  the  midst  of  one. 

There  is  an  affectation  of  style  that  is  very  ridicu- 
lous. How  some  people  will  force  themselves  into  a 
circle  and  style  of  living  for  which  they  are  not  fitted ! 
They  must  get  into  a  fashionable  house  in  a  fashion- 
able quarter,  take  a  pew  in  a  fashionable  church,  a 
box  at  the  opera  (for  that  is  style),  engage  a  staff  of 
servants  to  swindle  and  laugh  at  them,  give  dinners 
for  the  purpose  of  informing  their  guests  the  cost  of 
every  dish,  and  to  display  their  plate  and  vulgarity  to 
a  class  of  people  who  eat  their  dinners,  and  serve 
them  up  in  a  spicy  dish  of  ridicule  at  the  next  party. 
They  pretend  ignorance  of  all  domestic  details,  for 
that  is  fashionable;  their  sons  go  to  ruin;  their  daugh- 
ters make  fools  of  themselves.  We  may  say  of  them, 

"  Oh!  wad  some  power  the  giftie  gie  us 
To  see  oursels  as  others  see  us." 


FOURPENCE   APIECE,   MA'AM.  337 

But  "Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be 
wise,"  you  know. 

I  once  heard  of  a  lady  of  this  class,  who,  having  a 
sudden  call  of  hungry  visitors,  not  being  prepared  for 
them,  sent  to  the  confectioner's  for  some  tarts  to  help 
out  the  dinner,  —  the  propriety  of  which  we  do  not 
question.  All  would  have  gone  off  well,  but  the  lady 
wishing  to  show  off  by  exhibiting  ignorance  of  the 
contents  of  the  said  pies,  said  to  the  servant: 

"Ah,  John,  what  are  those  tarts?" 

"  Fourpence  apiece,  ma'am." 

Some  of  this  class  grow  supercilious  and  impor- 
tant. Notice  their  coming  into  church,  or  concert,  or 
lecture-room.  They  seem  to  think  they  are  the  ob- 
served of  all  observers.  They  will  make  a  point  of 
coming  late ;  and  with  what  an  air  they  will  strut  to 
their  seat,  imagining  they  produce  a  sensation,  remind- 
ing you  of  the  officer  in  full  regimental  uniform  who 
strutted  up  the  aisle  of  the  church  just  as  the  minister 
uttered  the  words,  "  Who  art  thou?  " 

"  I  am  an  officer  in  Her  Majesty's  service,  attached 
to  the  Light  Dragoons,  and  am  here  on  recruiting  ser- 
vice, thank  you ;  "  and  sat  down,  amid  the  titter  of  the 
congregation. 

Some  men  acquire  the  disagreeable  habit  of  making 
puns  on  all  occasions,  and  will  sit  gaping  for  an  op- 
portunity to  jingle  their  nonsense  with  whatever  hap- 
pens to  be  going  on.  Such  a  one  will  catch  at  some 
detached  bit  of  rational  conversation,  and  pervert  its 
sense,  continually  interrupting  what  might  be  intel- 
lectual intercourse  by  absurd  distortions,  ill-timed  and 
ill-placed.  He  will  store  in  his  memory  words  that 
are  alike  in  sound,  but  differing  in  signification.  He 
probably  once  made  some  hit  that  took,  and  gained 
21 


338  WIT  IN  A  PUN. 

him  some  applause,  which  encouraged  him  to  try 
again,  until  he  has  acquired  the  habit,  and  become  a 
punster — a  regular  hard-going,  thick-and-thin  punster 
—  a  character  that  Theodore  Hook  once  described  as 
the  "  dullest  and  stupidest  companion  alive,  if  he  could 
only  be  made  to  think  so."  Remember,  I  refer  to  the 
inveterate  punster.  If  one  speaks  of  an  electrical  ma- 
chine, "  Ah,  that  is  a  shocking  affair ;  "  of  worshipping 
idols,  "  that  is  an  idle  custom."  If  he  sees  a  man 
grinding  an  organ,  "that  is  music  by  Handel."  A 
man  stands  up  to  urge  his  horse,  that  is  "  rising  to 
propose  a  motion."  Another  leading  a  pig,  that's 
"  pig  lead."  A  man  firing  a  gun  with  his  eyes  shut, 
that  is  "  shutting  his  eyes  to  the  consequences."  Hot- 
house fruit  is  "  forced  to  be  agreeable."  You  cannot 
buy  a  pair  of  boots  when  they  are  "  half-soled ;  "  and 
BO  on,  ad  infinitum. 

There  may  be  wit  in  a  pun,  of  course,  and  they  are 
not  to  be  condemned  indiscriminately.  Some  of 
Foote's,  Quin's,  Sheridan's,  Hook's,  Jerrold's,  and  a 
few  others,  are  full  of  it. 

Goldsmith  once  said  that  "  even  wit  was  in  some 
measure  mechanical;  and  that  a  man  long  habituated 
to  catch  at  its  resemblance,  may  at  last  possess  the 
substance." 

The  power  of  language  is  often  destroyed,  its  force 
weakened,  and  its  beauty  marred,  by  the  habit  of 
using  unnecessary  words.  There  is  a  simplicity  and 
power  in  "  I  went  alone ; "  but  "  I  went  away  all  alone 
by  myself"  is  weakness.  "  I  saw  it  "  is  decisive  and 
striking;  but  "I  saw  it  myself  with  my  own  eyes" 
adds  words  which  weaken  the  force. 

"  I  must  go"  is  far  preferable  to  "  I've  got  to  go ; " — 
and,  by  the  way,  how  absurdly  we  use  that  little  word 


PERFECTLY  SPLENDID.  339 

got.  "  I've  got  to  go  to  the  store."  "  I've  got  to  go 
and  get  my  lessons."  "  I've  got  to  go  and  get  this 
bill  settled;"  and  so  on.  Cases  might  be  multiplied, 
for  the  habit  is  almost  universal.  Think  of  this  for  a 
sentence :  "  I  went  there  my  own  self  and  saw  him  as 
plain  as  anything  with  my  own  eyes.  He  said,  '  I've 
got  to  go  and  get  the  doctor.'  I  heard  him  say  that 
with  my  own  ears,  but  being  that  I  did  not  care  about 
his  seeing  of  me,  I  went  away  all  alone  by  myself,  and 
thinks  I  that  beats  all  I  ever  saw  before  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life.  Well,  then  I  came  right  straight 
home  and  I  never  said  a  single  word  to  nobody.  I 
was  pretty  considerable  kind  of  tired  out,  and  you'd 
better  believe  I  was  about  used  up." 

Then  the  absurdity  in  dealing  with  the  superlative 
in  conversation,  making  such  use  of  high-flown  ex- 
clamations on  the  most  trifling  occasions ;  never  using 
the  positive  or  comparative,  always  using  the  super- 
lative. A  mouse  running  across  the  room  will  call 
forth  as  strong  an  ejaculation  as  the  thunder-storm. 
A  landscape  is  "perfectly  splendid;  "  a  sunset,  "per- 
fectly splendid;"  a  frosted  cake,  "perfectly  splen- 
did;" a  sleigh-ride,  "perfectly  splendid;"  Niagara, 
"  perfectly  splendid ;  "  a  wedding,  "  perfectly  splen- 
did ;  "  a  young  man,  "  perfectly  splendid." 

The  opposite  absurdity  is  in  the  use  of  petty  ex- 
pressions entirely  inappropriate.  A  landscape  is  nice; 
a  sunset,  pretty;  a  frosted  cake  is  charming;  a  sleigh- 
ride  is  lovely;  Niagara  is  elegant;  a  wedding,  sweet; 
a  young  man  is  beautiful;  &c. 

I  once  showed  a  fine  engraving  of  Raphael's  Holy 
Family  to  an  affected  young  lady  who  had  been  using 
these  petty  expressions  in  reference  to  almost  every 
surrounding,  expecting  to  hear  some  appropriate  ex- 


340  TICKLED   TO   DEATH. 

clamation,  when  I  was  struck  dumb  by  hearing  this 
remark,  "  Lor',  how  cunning ! " 

Then  the  exaggeration  in  speech  that  is  so  common 
among  a  certain  class,  such  as,  "he  ran  like  light- 
ning; "  sometimes  it  will  be,  "he  went  quicker  than 
lightning;  "  "  my  feet  are  colder  than  ice;  "  "  he  is  as 
strong  as  a  horse ; "  "  Oh,  I  shall  die ; "  "I  laughed 
fit  to  kill  myself."  I  once  heard  a  person  say  several 
times  in  a  few  minutes,  "  I  never  laughed  so  much  in 
all  my  life."  A  friend  once  said  to  me  in  reference  to 
a  call  I  was  proposing,  "  If  you  only  go  to  see  him, 
he  will  be  tickled  to  death." 

These  things  seem  to  be  too  trivial  to  mention,  and 
yet  much  of  the  enjoyment  of  life  is  marred  by  these 
extravagances  and  puerilities  of  speech. 


CHAPTER  XXIY. 

THE  SPEAKER  AND  HIS  AUDIENCE.  —  ANECDOTES  AND 

INCD3ENTS. 

Dread  of  an  Audience  —  Personal  Physical  Suffering  —  Mutual  Sympa- 
thy required  —  Incident  in  the  Church  of  Dr.  Joseph  Parker  —  Efforts 
at  Reading  a  Hymn  —  Experience  with  President  Finney  at  Aber- 
deen —  The  Minister's  "  Supplication  "  —  Involuntary  Selection  of  Per- 
sons in  every  Audience  —  My  Stolid  Hearer  —  Method  of  Preparing 
Lectures  —  Five  Thousand  Temperance  Addresses  in  Seventeen  Years 

—  Interview  with  the  Actor  Macready  —  His   Method  —  My  Early 
Experience  with  Books  —  "  Rollins'  Ancient  History,"  and  "  Putnam's 
Library  "  —  Incident  at  Rhinebeck  —  Illustration  from  Niagara  Falls 

—  Taking  down  the  Scaffolding  from  my  Temple  —  "Gough  is  a 
Story-teller  "  —  The  Wonderful  Story  —  "  Gough  a  Retailer  of  Anec- 
dotes "  —  Value  of  Incidents. 

> 

[r^OME  feel  it  a  cross  to  speak,  and  others 
feel  it  a  cross  not  to  speak;  I  would 
advise  both  to  take  up  their  cross,"  was 
the  remark  of  a  shrewd  writer. 

Whether  this  be  sound  advice  or  not, 
I  have  for  thirty-seven  years  been  a 
cross-bearer  as  a  public  speaker;  but 
have  never  known  the  time  when  I  did 
not  dread  an  audience.  Often  that  fear  has 
amounted  to  positive  suffering,  and  seldom  am  I  called 
on  to  face  an  audience  when  I  would  not  rather  by 
far  run  the  other  way,  and  as  I  grow  older  this  suf- 
fering is  increasing.  A  very  large  assembly  depresses 
me  at  first  sight.  I  have  often  begged  the  chairman 
to  make  an  address,  and  give  me  time  to  recover. 

341 


342  DREADING  AN   AUDIENCE. 

There  are  occasions  when  without  the  relief  of  the 
chairman's  remarks,  I  should  commence  my  speech 
falteringly  and  with  tears.  In  my  suffering,  trembling 
seizes  upon  every  nerve;  my  throat  and  tongue  be- 
come dry  and  feverish;  my  voice  hoarse  or  husky, 
until  the  first  few  minutes  have  passed.  At  one  time 
the  painful  sensations  may  be  much  stronger  than  at 
another,  but  the  occasions  are  very  rare  when  I  am 
in  any  good  degree  unembarrassed,  and  never  am  I 
at  perfect  ease  in  sight  of  an  audience. 

There  are  some  persons  who  consider  this  affecta- 
tion. I  have  been  told  that  it  was  impossible  that  any 
man  who  had  faced  over  eight  thousand  audiences 
should  be  nervous,  or  apprehensive,  or  troubled  at  the 
sight  of  the  people.  From  the  first  speech  I  ever 
made,  when  my  heart  beat  like  a  trip-hammer,  and 
after  uttering  the  half-dozen  sentences  I  sat  down 
shaking  in  every  limb,  to  the  last  in  Philadelphia  on 
the  15th  of  April,  I  have  more  or  less  suffered  from 
this  unaccountable  dread  at  every  public  address. 

I  think  in  my  whole  experience  I  never  volunteered 
a  speech,  and  never  asked  for  an  invitation  to  address 
an  audience.  After  the  first  nervousness  has  passed, 
I  have  but  little  sensation,  except  the  desire  to  make 
my  audience  feel  as  I  feel,  see  as  I  see,  and  to  gain 
dominion  for  the  time  being  over  their  wills  and  affec- 
tions. If  I  succeed  in  this,  or  think  that  I  have  their 
sympathy,  and  especially  should  they  be  responsive, 
the  fear  is  all  gone;  then  comes  a  consciousness  of 
power  that  exhilarates,  excites,  and  produces  a  strange, 
thrilling  sensation  of  delight.* 

*  I  should  not  have  introduced  this  topic  into  my  book,  but  one  or  two 
dear  friends  for  whose  judgment  I  have  a  high  regard,  have  earnestly 
requested  me  to  do  so. 


"WHAT  SHALL  i  DO?"  343 

When  placed  in  circumstances  new  and  strange,  I 
have  been  asked  suddenly  to  perform  some  public  ser- 
vice, through  a  nervous  timidity  I  have  been  utterly 
unable  to  comply  with  the  request.  During  my  recent 
visit  in  London,  I  frequently  heard  Dr.  Joseph  Par- 
ker. On  one  occasion,  at  the  close  of  one  of  his  pow- 
erful sermons,  to  which  I  had  listened  with  intense 
interest,  I  was  startled  to  hear  him  say: 

"  I  see  my  friend  John  B.  Gough  in  the  audience. 
Will  he  please  come  into  the  pulpit  while  they  are 
singing  the  anthem,  and  conclude  Divine  service  with 
prayer?  " 

I  turned  to  my  wife,  and  said: 

"Mary,  what  shall  I  do?  I  can't  go  up  there  to 
take  part  in  the  service." 

She  said  very  quietly,  "  You  had  better  go  into  the 
pulpit  and  explain  to  Dr.  Parker." 

So,  with  head  bent,  I  passed  down  the  aisle,  crept 
up  the  stairs,  and  entered  the  desk,  where  Dr.  Parker 
sat  waiting  for  me.  His  pulpit,  a  very  beautiful  one, 
presented  to  him  by  the  corporation  of  London,  is 
large,  and  rather  high.  As  I  half  stooped  I  could 
hardly  be  seen  by  the  congregation. 

There  is  a  small  platform  on  which  the  doctor 
stands. 

I  said,  "  I  cannot  pray  here." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  can." 

"  But  I  cannot  here.  If  I  were  alone  I  could,  but 
here,  after  that  sermon,  I  cannot  lead  the  devotion 
and  worship  of  this  people.  Indeed  —  indeed,  I 
cannot.  Please  excuse  me." 

He  very  kindly  excused  me,  and  asked  me  to  give 
out  a  hymn.  I  told  him  I  would  try  to  do  that. 
He  told  me  to  give  out  the  twenty-seventh  hymn, 


344  CANNOT   AND   WILL   NOT. 

and  only  read  the  first  verse.  I  had  just  com- 
menced when  he  bade  me  stand  on  the  platform,  as 
not  much  more  than  my  head  could  be  seen  by 
the  audience  below.  That  added  to  my  embarrass- 
ment. 

I  stood  on  the  platform,  and  said,  in  a  very  husky 
voice,  "  The  twenty-eighth  hymn." 

He  corrected  me :  "  The  twenty-seventh  hymn." 

More  and  more  nervous,  I  said:  "The  twenty-sev- 
enth hymn,"  and  blundered  through  the  four  lines, 
but  how  I  know  not. 

Now  this  was  real  suffering,  and  I  suppose  I  ought 
to  have  been  in  the  spirit  of  prayer,  for  we  are  told  to 
"  continue  instant  in  prayer."  But  to  me  it  has  ever 
been  a  task,  and  a  cross,  to  lead  the  devotions  of 
others;  for  I  consider  it  the  most  solemn  exercise  in 
which  a  man  can  engage.  I  cannot  help  it,  and  I 
cannot  overcome  it. 

When  Rev.  Mr.  Finney  was  in  Aberdeen,  Scot- 
land, I  heard  from  him  a  wonderful  sermon.  The 
next  morning  he  with  his  wife  called  on  us  at  the 
hotel. 

In  the  course  of  our  conversation  I  said,  "Mr. 
Finney,  I  fear  I  am  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  Ro- 
mans." 

"What?" 

"  I  fear  I  am  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  Romans." 

He  instantly  said,  "  Let  us  kneel  down." 

When  we  were  on  our  knees,  he  said,  "  Pray." 

I  told  him  I  could  not. 

"  Pray,"  he  repeated. 

"  I  cannot." 

"  Pray,"  again  he  bade  me. 

"  I  cannot  pray,  and  I  will  not." 


INVOLUNTARY    SELECTION.  345 

Then  he  said,  "  O  Lord,  have  mercy  on  this  wiry, 
little  unbeliever,"  and  offered  a  prayer  himself. 

Some  have  the  gift  of  praying  in  public,  and  are 
able  to  do  it  without  embarrassment.  I  think  if  I 
were  a  minister,  that  leading  the  devotions  of  my  peo- 
ple would  be  much  more  difficult  than  preaching  the 
sermons.  At  one  of  our  meetings  in  London  a  min- 
ister was  asked  to  open  with  prayer,  and  he  prayed 
for  almost  everything  —  for  the  Zulus,  for  the  Af- 
ghans, for  the  government,  the  country,  other  coun- 
tries, for  the  audience,  for  the  speaker,  for  those  that 
were  instrumental  in  obtaining  the  chapel  for  the  lec- 
ture, —  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  long  petition  of 
nearly  fifteen  minutes  he  turned  to  the  secretary  of 
the  meeting  and  asked  him  if  he  was  satisfied  with 
his  supplication.  Such  a  person  must  have  a  very 
strange  idea  of  prayer. 

Many  questions  are  put  to  me  in  reference  to  my 
experience  of  public  work.  "Do  you  see  your  au- 
dience as  individuals  in  detail,  or  in  the  aggregate?  " 
"When  I  rise,  there  is  an  involuntary  selection  of  the 
persons  to  whom  I  shall  speak;  my  will  has  nothing 
to  do  with  it.  Glancing  over  the  assembly,  my  eye 
rests  on  certain  individuals  in  different  parts  of  the 
house,  and  to  them  my  speech  is  largely  addressed. 
I  seem  compelled  to  speak  to  them,  and  to  no  others. 
The  rest  of  the  people  are  in  the  aggregate;  these 
are  the  individuals.  If  I  move  these,  I  move  the 
rest;  if  these  are  sympathetic,  I  feel  it;  if  they  are 
unmoved,  I  am  distressed.  I  have  more  than  once 
talked  for  some  minutes  exclusively  to  one  person 
who  seemed  stolid  or  indifferent,  trying  all  methods 
to  move  him. 

One  occasion  especially  has  its  vivid  recollections. 


346         PREPARATION  OF  LECTURES. 

A  very  stolid  man  sat  before  me,  —  one  of  those  I 
had  selected;  but  he  was  so  very  obtuse,  apparently, 
that  I  soon  concentrated  all  my  energies  on  him.  The 
conviction  impressed  me,  "  I  must  move  that  man  to 
an  interest  in  me  and  my  theme,  and  until  I  can  move 
him  I  shall  accomplish  nothing."  I  well  remember 
the  sensation  of  relief  I  experienced  when,  at  a  funny 
story,  I  saw  a  slight  twitch  of  the  mouth,  and  an 
almost  imperceptible  twinkle  of  his  eye,  as  he  passed 
his  hand  with  a  rapid  motion  over  his  face.  My 
thought  was,  "  Now  I  have  you."  Sure  enough,  at 
the  next  story,  which  came  very  quickly,  he  laughed; 
I  felt  a  positive  friendship  for  him,  an  interest  in  him, 
and  would  have  been  pleased  to  shake  his  hand. 
During  the  rest  of  the  speech,  after  that  laugh,  he 
appeared  to  be  the  most  interested  auditor  I  had.  All 
this  I  cannot  explain;  but  so  it  is.  I  have  no  control 
over  the  selection  of  these  individuals,  and  when  once 
chosen  I  have  no  power  to  change  them. 

How  do  you  prepare  your  lectures?  This  is  rather 
a  difficult  question  to  answer  without  going  into  some 
analysis  of  myself,  and  stating  some  facts  in  reference 
to  the  position  I  occupy. 

For  the  first  seventeen  years  of  my  public  work  I 
spoke  entirely  on  temperance,  delivering  more  than 
five  thousand  addresses  on  that  theme;  eleven  hun- 
dred and  sixty  of  these  in  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 
I  never  wrote  one  of  them,  or  composed  one  in  my 
thoughts;  I  never,  except  on  perhaps  six  occasions, 
have  taken  with  me  a  slip  of  paper  to  the  platform, 
and  then  only  some  figures  I  needed,  or  one  or  two 
passages  of  Scripture  I  thought  I  might  want;  for, 
though  I  composed  no  speech,  I  sometimes  had  an 
idea  of  the  course  I  should  take.  Usually  I  have 


MACREADY   THE   ACTOR.  347 

known  no  more  what  I  should  say,  except  in  the  gen- 
eral idea,  than  the  audience  I  was  to  address. 

Some  years  ago,  after  a  lecture  I  had  delivered  in 
Sherborne,  England,  Mr.  Macready,  the  celebrated 
actor,  who  spent  the  last  years  of  his  life  near  that 
town,  came  on  the  platform  and  invited  me  to  break- 
fast with  him  the  next  morning.  I  regretted  being 
unable  to  accept  his  invitation,  being  compelled  to 
leave  in  the  early  morning. 

He  then  asked,  "  Do  you  commit  these  speeches  to 
memory,  and  recite  them?  " 

I  said,  "  No,  sir." 

"  Then  you  have  them  arranged  in  your  mind,  so 
that,  although  you  may  not  strictly  memorize,  you 
know  what  you  shall  say,  having  studied  them?" 

"  No,  sir.  I  knew  this  evening,  when  I  came  to 
the  platform,  no  more  what  I  should  say  than  you 
did.  I  knew  I  was  to  speak  on  temperance,  and  I 
knew  I  must  draw  on  the  stores  of  material  I  have 
been  gathering  in  my  memory  for  years ;  but  how  I 
should  arrange  thoughts,  or  facts,  or  incidents,  I 
could  not  tell  when  I  began.  If  you  remember,  I 
began  by  stating  a  simple  fact,  that  drunkenness  is 
an  evil,  and  our  duty  is  to  remove  the  evil ;  then  from 
that  I  went  on." 

"  But,"  said  he,  "  do  you  not  deliver  the  same  lect- 
ure at  different  times?  " 

"  I  use  the  same  material,  but  not  the  same  arrange- 
ment." 

He  said,  "Excuse  me;  but  I  felt  desirous  to  ask 
you  these  questions,  and  trust  I  have  not  been  imper- 
tinent." 

I  assured  him  I  was  glad  to  meet  him,  having  been 
present  in  New  York  when  the  rowdy  element  assailed 


348  MY  LIBRARY  A   HISTORY. 

and  mobbed  him.  He  further  told  me  that  if  he  was 
requested  to  make  a  speech  at  a  dinner,  or  on  any 
public  occasion,  or  in  reply  to  a  toast,  he  must  gather 
his  material,  write  the  speech,  and  commit  it  to  mem- 
ory. He  never  could  produce  an  entirely  extempo- 
raneous speech.  I  was  very  much  interested  in  his 
statement. 

Twenty-five  years  ago  I  bought  an  index-book  for 
jotting  down  thoughts  that  might  occur  to  me,  or 
selections  from  authors.  That  book  to-day  has  not  a 
score  of  selections  or  thoughts,  and  the  pages  are,  for 
the  most  part,  as  clean  as  when  I  purchased  it  at  the 
book-store.  My  early  life,  as  is  well  known,  was  one 
of  privation.  I  longed  for  an  education,  but  was 
blocked  at  every  turn.  It  was  not  so  easy  then  as 
now  for  a  young  man  to  obtain  a  liberal  education. 
Till  I  was  twenty-five  years  of  age  I  had  positively 
read  no  book  of  history  or  science,  except  those  I 
might  have  read  when  a  mere  boy  at  home.  My  life 
was  work  without  holiday.  I  read  novels  in  what 
leisure  I  had.  From  my  twelfth  birthday  I  was  with- 
out a  home  and  its  restraints.  My  mind  had  never 
been  subjected  to  discipline  or  training,  but  was,  like 
an  untamed  colt,  very  active,  but  with  no  direction. 
Desultory  reading  of  novels  and  frequent  attendance 
at  theatres,  with  an  irregular  Sabbath  service,  was  all 
the  intellectual  food  I  obtained,  and  at  twenty-five 
years  of  age  I  was  fearfully  ignorant,  as  the  world 
terms  ignorance.  My  library  in  which  I  am  now  sit- 
ting is  the  history  of  the  development  of  a  desire  for 
better  things  when  I  threw  off  the  fetters  of  habit, 
and  was  inspired  with  an  intense  desire  for  a  better 
life,  and  to  redeem  in  some  degree  the  useless  past. 

I  well  remember,  and  I  sometimes  think  of  it  with 


PREPARING  SPEECHES.  349 

tears,  bringing  to  my  lodgings  "  Rollin's  Ancient  His- 
tory," in  six  volumes.  I  wanted  something  to  read. 
I  had  no  one  to  advise  me  to  a  course  of  reading,  so 
I  pitched  on  Rollin.  Next  I  obtained  a  number  of 
"Wiley  and  Putnam's  "  Library  of  Choice  Reading," 
and  there  I  found  essay,  and  biography,  and  history; 
but  for  the  lack  of  a  system,  my  reading  was  desul- 
tory. My  time  was  soon  fully  occupied  in  speaking, 
day  and  night,  in  school-houses,  vestries,  and  halls,  so 
that  the  opportunities  for  intellectual  culture  were 
limited.  Still,  I  read  a  great  deal  to  small  profit, 
owing  to  the  lack  of  advantages,  such  as  I  might  have 
obtained,  by  the  training  which  -an  education  would 
have  imparted. 

My  earlier  addresses  were  without  any  preparation, 
and  no  material  but  my  experience.  The  first  speech 
after  my  signing  the  pledge  I  have  given  in  my  auto- 
biography, with  a  brief  account  of  my  entering  into 
public  life  as  a  speaker.  But  what  has  this  to  do  with 
the  question,  "How  do  you  prepare  your  speeches?" 
If  you  mean  my  temperance  speeches,  they  are  not 
prepared  at  all.  For  seventeen  years  I  was  constantly 
on  the  lookout,  in  travelling,  conversation,  reading, 
strolling  the  streets,  in  society,  for  illustrations,  inci- 
dents, or  facts,  that  I  could  use  for  temperance  lect- 
ures; not  exactly  storing  them  in  my  mind,  but 
letting  them  float  on  the  surface,  ready  at  the  moment 
when  required. 

I  knew  nothing  of  grammar  or  rhetoric.  Logic 
was  a  term  to  me  that  I  could  not  define.  I  had  oc- 
casionally an  idea,  when  I  went  before  an  audience, 
that  I  should  relate  some  story,  or  use  some  illustra- 
tion, but  when,  where,  or  how,  I  could  not  tell.  When 
I  had  a  fixed  purpose  to  relate  some  particular  inci- 


350  DEAD   Iff  RHINEBECK. 

dent,  it  became  a  burden  and  hindrance  to  me  till  I 
got  rid  of  it.  I  have  been  requested  to  repeat  some 
story,  or  anecdote,  and  have  promised  to  do  so.  When 
the  remembrance  that  I  had  a  certain  thing  to  do 
would  perplex  me  so  much,  and  so  check  the  flow  of 
thought,  that  I  have  more  than  once  stopped  in  my 
speech,  and  said,  "  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  been 
requested  to  give  you  such  or  such  an  anecdote,  and 
I  must  give  it  now,  or  I  shall  be  compelled  to  give  up, 
for  I  can  make  no  progress  till  I  get  this  out  of  the 
way."  Then  after  relating  the  anecdote,  or  incident, 
I  have  gone  on  with  my  lecture. 

A  little  incident  will  serve  to  show  how  I  would 
appropriate  what  I  saw  or  heard  for  my  purpose.  At 
Rhinebeck,  many  years  ago,  I  was  entertained  by  Mr. 
Freeborn  Garretson,  who  then  resided  on  a  beautiful 
estate  near  the  Hudson  River. 

We  were  walking  through  the  grounds  one  morn- 
ing, when  he  said  to  me:  "I  am  sorry  you  do  not  see 
us  in  the  summer  time :  we  look  very  barren  and  deso- 
late; the  trees  are  so  utterly  without  foliage,  they 
might  be  dead  trees  for  all  the  evidence  they  give  of 
life.  It  is  winter  time  with  us  now;  but  come  to  us 
in  the  summer,  and  under  the  shade  of  these  grand 
trees  you  may  enjoy  a  cool  and  exquisite  refresh- 
ment." 

I  went  in  the  evening  to  the  lecture,  and  as  I  was 
passing  into  the  church,  a  gentleman  said  to  me :  "  I 
am  glad  you  are  come  to  help  us,  for  the  temperance 
cause  is  dead  in  Rhinebeck." 

During  my  speech,  I  said,  "  A  gentleman  said  to 
me  on  the  threshold  of  this  house  this  evening,  *  the 
temperance  cause  is  dead  in  Rhinebeck.'  No,  it  is 


THEY  ARE   NOT   DEAD.  351 

not  dead;  it  was  born  in  the  church  of  Christ,  and 
can  never  die." 

Then  Mr.  Garretson's  remarks  in  the  morning 
flashed  into  my  mind,  and  I  said:  "If  I  should  say  to 
you,  as  I  passed  through  the  streets  of  your  village, 
'  Cut  down  these  dead  trees,'  you  would  say,  i  They 
are  not  dead.'  If  I  tell  you  there  is  no  evidence  of 
life,  there  is  no  bud,  no  blossom,  no  leaf,  and  ask  you 
to  cut  them  down,  and  plant  living  trees,  you  might 
tell  me:  'It  is  winter  time  with  us  now.  There  is 
neither  bud,  blossom,  nor  leaf,  but  the  sap  is  in  these 
trees ;  and  by  and  by  the  warm  spring  rain  will  water 
the  roots,  the  sun  will  shine  on  the  branches,  and  they 
will  bud,  blossom,  and  leaf  out,  and  as 

"  The  tree-tops  stir  not, 

But  stand  and  peer  on  Heaven's  bright  face,  as  though 
It  slept,  and  they  were  loving  it," 

You  may  stand  under  their  deep  shade,  and  enjoy 
the  cool  refreshment  thereof.'  So  with  our  tem- 
perance tree.  There  may  be  but  few,  if  any,  signs 
of  life.  It  may  be  the  winter  time  with  us ;  but 
the  sap  is  hi  the  tree,  and  by  and  by  the  refresh- 
ing rain  of  public  sentiment  will  water  the  roots, 
and  the  warm  sun  of  woman's  influence  will  shine 
upon  the  branches,  and  it  will  bud,  and  blossom, 
and  leaf  out;  and  the  branches,  hanging  heavy  with 
foliage,  shall  touch  the  earth,  and  spring  up  again,  like 
the  banyan-tree,  and  cover  the  land,  and  under  its 
shade  every  poor  victim  of  this  vice  shall  find  a 
refuge." 

ISTow,  when  I  commenced  my  speech  I  had  no  idea 
I  should  use  Mr.  Garretson's  remarks,  and  the  line  of 
poetry  I  had  read  a  few  days  before  in  Festus. 


352  AX  AWFUL   RISK. 

Perhaps  some  person  may  say,  "  Did  I  not  tell  you 
that  Gough  was  a  plagiarist?  Here  is  an  illustration 
of  it.  He  used  Mr.  Garretson's  remarks  without  giv- 
ing him  credit  for  them.  Why  did  he  not  quote  the 
words  as  Mr.  Garretson's?"  A  question  easily  an- 
swered. Mr.  Garretson  was  present  at  my  lecture, 
and  it  would  have  been  impertinent  in  me  to  allude 
to  him  publicly  without  his  permission.  I  shall  in 
another  place  say  a  few  words  about  the  charge  of 
plagiarism. 

I  never  wrote  or  studied  an  illustration.  Upon  my 
first  sight  of  Niagara,  and  while  standing  by  the 
rapids,  I  had  no  thought  that  I  could  use  them;  but 
that  same  evening,  in  Buffalo,  I  introduced  the  simile 
of  the  rapids,  which  has  become  so  familiar  to  my 
hearers,  for  when  once  uttered,  I  use  them  again  and 
again,  altering  the  phraseology,  but  keeping  the  main 
features  intact.  These  illustrations  are  all  worked 
out  on  the  platform. 

Remember,  I  am  speaking  of  the  purely  extempo- 
raneous lectures  on  temperance.  This  remark  does 
not  apply  to  the  written  lectures  of  the  past  twenty 
years.  Occasionally,  some  thought  has  flashed  into 
my  mind  in  the  midst  of  a  speech,  the  germ  of  an 
illustration,  and  I  have  commenced  with  no  idea  how 
or  by  what  means  I  could  bring  it  to  a  successful 
climax  —  an  awful  risk  before  an  audience. 

In  the  Broadway  tabernacle,  one  evening,  I  suffered 
such  an  exhaustion  at  the  close  of  one  of  these  at- 
tempts, that,  though  nearly  thirty  years  have  passed, 
I  remember  it  all  as  distinctly  as  if  it  were  yesterday. 
I  commenced  to  build  a  temple,  and,  with  no  prepara- 
tion or  material,  laid  the  foundation-stone,  by  workers, 
under  the  surface,  out  of  sight,  toiling  in  the  deep, 


"JOHN,   YOU   WILL   FAIL."  353 

damp  trench.  When  I  had  brought  it  to  the  surface, 
then  came  the  struggle,  appropriation  and  rejection,  a 
double,  or  I  might  say,  a  threefold  operation  in  my 
mind.  The  temple  must  be  finished  somehow;  and 
as  the  materials  came  to  me,  I  must  instantly  reject 
or  select;  and  with  pillars,  capitals,  architrave  (oh, 
how  I  needed  some  knowledge  of  architecture!)  I 
became  wonderfully  excited.  I  lost  sight  of  my  au- 
dience. All  apprehension  vanished;  I  could  feel  my 
nostrils  quiver.  I  clenched  my  hands  so  tight  that  I 
bore  the  marks  of  my  nails  for  days.  The  scaffolding 
was  introduced  something  as  follows:  "We  do  not 
see  the  glory  of  the  temple  yet,  for  the  scaffolding  is 
all  round  it ;  ropes,  and  poles,  and  ladders  hiding  or 
marring  its  beauty."  How  to  get  the  ropes  and  poles 
and  ladders  down,  I  did  not  know.  Swift  as  lightning, 
the  thought  flashed  across  me :  "  John,  you  will  fail ! 
That  scaffolding,  what  shall  I  do  with  it!"  Then 
came  another  thought:  "Let  a  trumpet's  blast  be 
heard,  and  the  scaffold  will  fall."  Then  it  came :  "  A 
trumpet's  blast  is  heard  ringing  through  the  clear  at- 
mosphere; the  scaffold  falls  with  a  crash;  and  the 
glorious  superstructure  is  revealed  in  all  its  wondrous 
beauty  before  an  astonished  world ;  and  the  last 
drunkard  shall  go  into  it,  leaving  his  broken,  burning 
chains  behind  him."  It  was  fortunate  this  was  the 
close  of  my  speech,  for  I  was  terribly  excited,  and 
somewhat  exhausted.  The  illustration  may  have  been 
very  crude,  and  not  at  all  symmetrical  in  the  eye  of  a 
critic,  but  it  was  given  as  I  have  stated ;  and  it  will 
not  be  egotism  to  say  that  the  audience  received  my 
efforts  on  that  occasion  very  generously. 

It  has  been  said,  "  Gough  is  a  mere  story-teller." 
That  may  be  true  in  a  certain  sense,  so  far  as  my 
22 


354:  "l  AM  A   STORY-TELLER." 

temperance  speeches  are  concerned.  I  have  no  wish 
to  defend  myself  from  any  such  silly  charge  as  that. 
"When  I  first  began,  I  only  told  a  story.  I  had  no 
literature,  no  scientific  knowledge,  no  beautiful 
thoughts  clothed  in  beautiful  language.  I  had  a 
story  to  tell,  and  I  told  it.  It  was  a  story  of  priva- 
tion, of  suffering;  a  story  of  struggle,  and  final  vic- 
tory; a  story  of  gloom  and  brightness;  a  story  of 
life;  a  story  of  hope  and  despair;  a  story  of  God's 
mercy;  a  story  every  word  of  which  I  felt  in  the 
deepest  depths  of  my  own  soul.  Yes,  I  am  a  story- 
teller! 

I  have  related  the  stories  of  other  experiences  than 
my  own.  I  have  tried  to  tell  the  story  of  the  cross; 
and  I  thank  God  to-day  with  my  whole  heart  that 
there  are  so  many  who  have  been  moved  at  my  story 
to  make  the  remaining  chapters  of  the  story  of  their 
own  lives  better,  nobler,  higher.  I  am  content  to  be 
a  story-teller,  if  I  may  win  a  soul  from  vice  to  vir- 
tue; warn  the  unwary,  encourage  the  desponding,  or 
strengthen  the  weak.  And  I  have  the  cheering 
evidence,  by  letters  and  personal  interviews,  that 
my  story  has  been  harmful  to  none,  and  helpful  to 
many. 

Yes,  but  "  Gough  is  only  a  retailer  of  anecdotes  — 
that's  what  we  mean."  I  have  a  keen  sense  of  the 
ridiculous;  and  when  I  find  a  good  story,  I  appro- 
priate it,  and  use  it.  Some  of  these  I  make,  by  put- 
ting some  funny  thought  into  a  narrative,  or  dialogue; 
some  I  find  in  the  newspapers;  some  are  related  to 
me  by  others;  and  some  occur  in  my  own  experience. 
I  use  them  all.  They  are  public  property;  and  I 
have  known  persons  sit  before  me,  jotting  down 
every  story  I  tell;  for  what  purpose?  I  do  not  in- 


A   STORY  WELL   TOLD.  355 

quire,  and  do  not  care.  I  think  the  public  will  not 
charge  me  with  introducing  a  funny  story  except  to 
illustrate  a  point;  and,  besides,  I  think  a  good  story, 
well  told,  will  relieve  an  audience  wonderfully.  I 
have  evidence,  by  the  laughter,  that  my  stories  do 
please;  and  I  expect  to  continue  the  practice  of 
"  retailing "  a  few  stories,  either  original  or  bor- 
rowed, with  but  little  regard  to  the  adverse  opinion 
of  critics. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 


WHAT  OPPOSITION  WE   MEET. — FALSE    CHARGES  AND 
MISREPRESENTATIONS. 


"Gough  not  a  Thinker"  —  Unexplainable  Knowledge  —  Plagiarism 
and  its  Meaning  —  Satire  on  Plagiarism  of  "  TJhe  Little  Busy 
Bee "  —  Gough's  Apostrophe  to  Water,  and  that  by  Paul  Denton 
—  History  of  its  Inception  —  Reply  to  a  Shameless  Attack  —  In- 
creased Consumption  of  Beer  —  Our  Pullman  Cars  and  Liquor- 
drinking  —  Increase  of  Intemperance  in  Thirty  Years  —  Worces- 
ter as  an  Example  —  1843  and  1880  —  Washingtonianism  —  Drink- 
ing among  Ministers  —  Drinking  among  Women  —  Murder  as  ex- 
cited by  Beer  —  Hereditary  Effects  of  Beer-drinking  —  Paper  cir- 
culated by  Life  Insurance  Men  —  Reported  Interview  with  the  Oxford 
Students  —  The  True  Story,  and  the  Scene  —  The  Happy  Conclusion. 

T  has  been  said,  "  Gough  is  not  a  thinker." 
He  never  professed  to  be  very  profound, 
and  indeed  how  many  profound  thinkers 
are  there  in  the  world?  You  can  count 
them  on  your  fingers  nearly.  Yet  I  think 
occasionally.  I  do  not  always  jump  to 
conclusions,  or  arrive  at  them  by  intui- 
tion. I  think  a  little,  but  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  be  a  teacher,  or  instructor  of  the 
It  is  not  my  fault,  and  I  hardly  suppose  it  is 
a  great  misfortune  that  I  am  not  a  profound  thinker, 
for  there  must  of  necessity  be  some  commonplace 
people  in  the  world,  and  I  have  no  objection  to  rank 
with  them. 

356 


THE   BUSY   BEE.  357 

The  man  in  the  Gospel  knew  not  who  the  healer 
was,  but  he  could  say,  "  One  thing  I  know :  whereas 
I  was  once  blind,  now  I  see."  It  requires  no  great 
amount  of  thinking  to  realize  that,  and  to  endeavor  to 
lead  the  blind  to  the  same  great  Healer,  that  they  too 
may  know  they  see.  I  do  not  depreciate  thought  or 
profound  thinking,  though  it  may  be  so  profound  that 
with  my  short  line  I  cannot  plumb  its  depths.  I  only 
think  it  absurd  to  bring  as  a  reproach  on  a  man,  that 
which  he  cannot  help,  and  which  perhaps  he  would 
remedy  if  he  could. 

But  "  Gough  is  a  plagiarist!  "  (noun,)  one  who  pur- 
loins the  writings  of  another,  and  puts  them  off  as  his 
own,  a  plagiary.  "  Plagiary  (a  noun) ,  a  thief  in  litera- 
ture, one  who  purloins  another's  writings  and  offers 
them  to  the  public  as  his  own."  We  might  as  well 
have  a  correct  definition.  Coleridge  says  a  plagiarist 
is  the  most  sensitive  to  plagiarism.  The  cry  of  pla- 
giarism is  often  very  absurd.  I  have  read  somewhere 
a  capital  satire  on  those  who  are  always  uttering  that 
cry.  The  Atlieneum  had  accused  Alexander  Smith 
of  plagiarism,  and  the  satirist  defends  him  by  enumer- 
ating several  specimens  of  the  crime,  overlooked  by 
his  accuser.  He  says:  "Certainly  Smith  is  guilty  of 
plagiarism,  for  there  is  scarcely  a  word  he  has  used 
but  is  purloined  from  other  authors;  but  there  are 
instances  strangely  overlooked  by  the  Atheneum. 
Mr.  Smith  speaks  of  the  '  busy  bee.'  He  must  have 
stolen  that  from  Dr.  Watts,  for  whoever  revealed  the 
fact  that  the  bee  was  busy  till  Dr.  Watts  wrote  his 
immortal  lines?  But  there  is  a  glaring  instance  that 
could  hardly  have  escaped  the  notice  of  the  reviewer. 
Smith's  line  reads, 

*  A  sigh  and  a  curse  together,' 


358  ABUSIVE  AND  UNJUST. 

evidently  plagiarized  from  Walter  Scott,  whose  line 
reads, 

'  He  draws  his  last  sob  by  the  side  of  his  dam.'  " 

I  have  but  few  words  to  say  in  reference  to  this 
charge.  In  a  very  abusive  and  unjust  article  in  the 
Rutland  Herald  and  Globe  the  writer  very  coarsely 
accuses  me  of  reckless  falsehood,  palpable  exaggera- 
tion, calls  me  a  mountebank,  a  demagogue,  and  pro- 
fessional sensationalist;  says  that  I  have  fastened 
myself  to  the  skirts  of  a  great  cause,  I  am  guilty  of 
amazing  untruthfulness ;  intimates  that  I  am  a  man  of 
base  and  depraved  habits,  and  states  that  no  intelli- 
gent or  candid  man  ever  listened  to  Gough  without 
a  feeling  of  disgust;  and  much  more  of  such  rubbish. 
While  he  accuses  me  of  gross  plagiarism,  he  can  only 
fasten  on  one  instance,  and  that  is  what  is  called  "An 
Apostrophe  to  Water,"  which  he  says  was  originally 
written  by  a  man  named  Arrington,  now  dead.  This 
elegant  writer  and  critic  (?)  may  have  it  all  his  own 
way,  and  I  mention  the  charge  of  plagiarism  that  I 
may  do  what  I  have  always  intended  to  do  since  I 
was  first  accused  of  appropriating  what  was  termed 
"  Paul  Denton's  Apostrophe  to  Water."  When  any 
person  feels  particularly  spiteful  and  venomous  to- 
wards me,  he  reiterates  this  charge  of  appropriating 
another  man's  thoughts. 

In  the  early  days  of  my  temperance  work  we  had  at 
our  meetings  often  sections  of  the  Cold  Water  Army 
of  children,  who  sang  for  us,  and  one  of  the  favorite 
songs  was: 

"  Sparkling  and  bright  in  its  liquid  light 
Is  the  water  in  our  glasses." 

Another  was : 

"  Give  water  to  me,  bright  water  to  me,"  &c. 


A  GOBLET   OF   COLD   WATER.  359 

Long  before  I  ever  heard  of  Paul  Denton  I  spoke  at 
my  meetings  of  the  beauty  of  water,  and  holding  the 
glass  in  my  hand,  would  say:  "Is  not  this  beautiful? 
Talk  of  ruby  wine.  Here  is  our  beautiful  beverage, 
—  water,  pure  water;  we  drink  it  to  quench  our  thirst. 
There  is  no  necessity  to  drink,  except  to  quench  one's 
thirst;  and  here  is  the  beverage  our  Father  has  pro- 
vided for  His  children.  When  Moses  smote  the  rock 
the  people  were  thirsty,  and  it  was  water  that  came 
gushing  forth  —  not  wine,  or  rum,  or  ale.  Were  you 
ever  thirsty,  with  lips  dry  and  feverish,  and  throat 
parched?  Did  you  never  lift  the  goblet  of  pure  water 
to  your  lips  and  feel  it  trickling  over  the  tongue  and 
gurgling  down  the  throat.  Was  it  not  luxury?  Give 
to  the  traveller  on  the  burning  desert,  as  he  lies  per- 
ishing with  thirst,  a  goblet  of  cold  water,  and  he  will 
return  the  goblet  heaping  with  gold;  give  him  wine, 
ale,  or  rum,  and  he  turns  away  in  feverish  disgust  to 
die.  Our  beverage  is  beautiful  and  pure,  for  God 
brewed  it,  —  not  in  the  distillery,  but  out  of  the  earth, 
and  wherever  it  is,  it  is  always  beautiful."  Then  I 
described  it  in  the  white  mantle  over  the  wintry 
world,  as  rolling  up  the  valley  in  the  cloud-mist,  set- 
tling on  the  mountain  top,  in  the  waterfall  and  in  the 
streamlet,  in  the  rainbow,  in  the  hail  and  rain,  beauti- 
ful always  and  blessed;  no  curse  to  it,  no  heart- 
broken mother  or  pale-faced  wife,  no  starving  child, 
nor  dying  drunkard  ever  cursed  it.  It  is  always 
beautiful: 

"  Give  water  to  me,  bright  water  to  me. 
It  cooleth  the  brow,  it  cooleth  the  brain, 
It  maketh  the  weak  man  stronf  ao-ain." 

o       o 

"  Tell  me,  young  men  and   maidens,  old  men  and 
matrons,  will  you  not  dash  from  your  lips  the  drink 


360  APOSTROPHE    TO   WATER. 

that  maddens  and  destroys,  and  take  as  your  bever- 
age the  beautiful  gift  our  Father  in  Heaven  has  pro- 
vided for  His  own  children?  " 

I  had  for  years  occasionally  used  this  apostrophe, 
or  bits  of  it,  before  I  heard  what  purported  to  be 
Paul  Denton's.  I  first  saw  that  in  Glasgow,  in  1854, 
and  noticed  some  similarity  in  its  construction  to 
mine.  He  used  more  beautiful  language  than  I  did, 
for  he  speaks  of  the  "  Iris,"  of  the  "  Seraph  zone  of 
the  sky,"  or  the  wonderful  power  of  refraction,  etc. 
I  adopted  a  few  of  his  illustrations  of  the  beauty  of 
water,  and  incorporated  them  with  mine,  always  say- 
ing when  I  came  to  quotations  from  him,  "  As  Paul 
Denton  has  said."  I  was  the  first  to  draw  attention 
to  the  fact  of  the  similarity  of  his  "  Apostrophe  "  to 
water  and  mine.  I  quoted  him  until  I  changed  the 
whole  structure  of  the  passage,  for  I  was  continually 
changing  it  in  detail,  and  as  I  left  out  his  sentences 
I  left  off  his  name.  I  have  not  used  this  apostrophe 
for  several  years  except  on  one  or  two  occasions,  and 
have  forgotten,  and  could  not  repeat  it  to-day.  If 
this  is  plagiarism,  then  I  am  guilty  and  confess,  but 
will  not  say,  "  I  won't  do  so  any  more." 

I  have  received  several  communications  in  reference 
to  an  item  that  has  been  the  rounds  of  the  papers: 
"  John  B.  Gough  says  that  drunkenness  in  this  conn- 
try  has  increased  in  the  past  twenty-five  or  thirty 
years.  There  are  more  ministers  drinking,  more 
women  drinking,  than  ever  before.  Twenty-five  years 
ago  you  never  saw  a  woman  drinking  in  the  cars,  but 
now  you  see  it  every  day,  and  that,  too,  out  of  flasks. 
The  cars  in  these  days  are  made  regular  grog-shops." 
This  is  the  heading  of  the  article  in  the  Rutland 
Herald,  containing  the  most  shameless  attack  that  I 


INCREASE  OF  INTEMPERANCE.        361 

have  had  for  thirty  years.  In  this  quotation  from 
the  reports  there  are  some  things  I  did  say  in  several 
places,  and  some  things  I  did  not  say  anywhere. 

I  was  speaking  of  the  temperance  reform  in  Eng- 
land, and  said  the  curse  of  Great  Britain  is  beer,  and 
in  this  country  there  is  an  alarming  increase  in  the 
consumption  of  beer;  that  beer  was  not  a  substitute 
for  spirits,  but  an  addition ;  that  beer  was  a  feeder  to 
intemperance;  and  that  I  believed  there  was  more 
intemperance  now  than  there  was  twenty-five  or  thirty 
years  ago ;  that  we  saw  more  of  it  on  the  cars  and  at 
hotel-tables ;  that  I  feared  the  use  of  ale  and  lager- 
beer  was  on  the  increase  among  ministers  and  women ; 
that  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  ago  you  would  see 
but  little  drinking  in  the  cars,  and  very  rarely,  if  ever, 
among  the  women,  but  now  it  was  a  common  sight. 
I  stated  that  the  porters  would  furnish  ale,  and,  I 
believed,  anything  you  required,  in  drawing-room 
coaches;  for  I  had  known  brandy  to  be  furnished  to 
passengers  by  porters.  Some  one  has  said,  "  Our 
Pullman  cars  are  getting  to  be  travelling  grog- 
shops ; "  and  I  fear,  if  the  use  of  ale  is  increased,  we 
shall  see  wrhat  is  occasionally  seen  in  England,  — 
ladies  drinking  out  of  flasks  in  public  conveyances. 
For  every  one  of  these  statements  I  am  ready  to  give 
a  reason. 

"We  note  the  increase  of  intemperance  in  the  past 
thirty  years.  Take  Worcester  as  an  example.  In 
1843  she  had  a  population  of  20,000,  and  a  meeting 
was  called  to  see  what  could  be  done  to  suppress  the 
traffic  known  to  be  carried  on  in  twelve  or  fourteen 
places.  Now,  in  1880,  the  population  is  58,040.  There 
were  over  200  licences  granted  two  years  ago,  and 
between  100  and  200  are  granted  now.  Then  only 


362  DR.   HARGRAVES'   OPINION. 

one  hotel  sold  liquor ;  the  United  States,  and  that  was 
constantly  prosecuted,  Now  every  hotel,  I  believe, 
but  one  sells  liquors. 

The  "Worcester  Temperance  Society  held  meetings 
every  Monday  night  in  the  Town  Hall;  now  there 
are  no  weekly  meetings  in  the  City  Hall,  and  the 
Temperance  Society  is  defunct. 

In  Boston  there  were  four  or  five  temperance 
houses;  now  I  know  not  of  one.  There  were  no 
licences  granted  in  Massachusetts  except  in  one 
count}T;  now  there  are  some  licenses  in  every  county. 
We  had  Cold  Water  Armies  in  every  town;  now 
there  are  but  few,  if  any.  In  1843  Washingtonian- 
ism  was  a  wonderful  power,  and  it  is  my  belief  there 
was  a  stronger  sentiment  against  the  drink  then  than 
now. 

We  know  there  is  an  amazing  increase  in  the 
consumption  of  ale  and  beer,  and  very  little,  if  any, 
diminution  in  the  consumption  of  spirits. 

For  the  expressed  fear  that  there  is  more  drinking 
among  ministers,  I  would  state  that  I  could  name 
those  whom  we  once  considered  our  stanch  friends 
who  now  are  using  ale,  some  even  defending  it; 
others  who  were  with  us  are  gone  out  from  us ;  and  I 
am  told  by  some  ministers  who  have  long  been  con- 
sidered total-abstainers  that  they  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  taking  beer  by  the  advice  of  their  medical 
men,  &c. 

In  reference  to  the  drinking  of  women,  Dr.  Har- 
graves,  the  temperance  statistician,  said,  in  a  speech 
in  Philadelphia  in  1876 :  "  Intemperance  is  on  the 
increase  among  women.  I  contend  there  is  as  much 
intemperance  now  as  in  1867.  It  may  not  be  seen 
among  the  men,  but  I  know  it  is  seen  among  the 


LIFE-INSURANCE   CIRCULAR.  363 

women.  I  see  them  repeatedly  drunk  along  our 
streets.  I  see  the  cans  and  pitchers  running  from 
morning  till  night;  and  you  will  find  it  in  every  part 
of  this  great  State." 

About  the  drinking  in  the  cars.  It  is  well  known 
that  until  the  drawing-room  coaches  were  introduced, 
there  was  no  sale  of  liquors  on  the  cars.  Now  travel 
from  Boston  to  Buffalo,  and  you  may  obtain  what  you 
wish.  Only  the  other  day  I  saw  a  party  furnished 
with  six  bottles  of  wine;  and  a  little  while  since  I 
saw  a  lady,  on  the  journey  between  Boston  and  New 
York,  drink  four  glasses  of  ale.  At  another  time  a 
gentleman  drank  three  bottles,  and  was  so  sleepy 
when  we  arrived  in  New  York  that  it  required  a 
sharp  push  to  wake  him.  These  are  the  reasons  for 
saying  what  I  did;  and  I  maintain  I  had  a  right  to 
say  it  without  calling  down  on  me  such  low  abuse 
and  vituperation. 

A  gentleman  of  large  experience  and  observation, 
who  has  travelled  in  the  United  States  twenty  thou- 
sand miles  each  year  for  the  past  six  years,  to  whom 
I  read  the  above  statement,  tells  me  that  he  knows 
there  is  a  large  increase  in  the  consumption  of  liquor 
on  the  cars,  and  he  has  several  times  remonstrated 
with  the  conductor  and  porter  for  furnishing  drink  to 
persons  who  made  themselves  quite  offensive  by  its 
use.  He  asserts  that  he  has  seen  ladies  drink  from 
bottles  they  have  carried  with  them,  &c. 

I  have  in  another  place  spoken  of  the  increase  of 
the  use  of  beer,  and  its  deleterious  effects.  Let  me 
here  introduce  the  contents  of  a  paper  that  is  being 
circulated  among  life-insurance  agents  by  one  of  the 
prominent  companies  of  New  York: 


364  BEER  IS   ANIMALIZING. 

"  The  fashion  of  the  present  day  in  the  United  States  sets  strongly 
toward  the  substitution  of  beer  for  other  stimulating  liquors.  An  idea 
appears  to  be  gaining  ground  that  it  is  not  only  nutritious,  but  conducive 
to  health ;  and  further,  that  there  does  not  attach  to  it  that  danger  of 
creating  intemperate  habits  which  attends  the  use  of  other  drinks.  The 
subject  is  one  of  great  magnitude,  and  deserves  the  attention  of  medical 
men  as  well  as  that  of  the  moralist. 

"Many  years  ago,  and  long  before  the  moral  sense  of  society  was 
awakened  to  the  enormous  evils  of  intemperance,  Sir  Astley  Cooper,  an 
undisputed  authority  in  his  day,  denounced  habitual  beer-drinking  as 
noxious  to  health.  Referring  to  his  experience  in  Guy's  Hospital,  he 
declared  that  the  beer-drinkers  from  the  London  breweries,  though  pre- 
senting the  appearance  of  most  rugged  health,  were  the  most  incapable 
of  all  classes  to  resist  disease ;  that  trifling  injuries  among  them  were 
liable  to  lead  to  the  most  serious  consequences,  and  that  so  prone  were 
they  to  succumb  to  disease,  that  they  would  sometimes  die  from  gangrene 
in  wounds  as  trifling  as  the  scratch  of  a  pin. 

"  We  apprehend  that  no  great  change,  either  in  beer  or  men,  has 
taken  place  since  the  days  of  the  great  surgeon. 

"  It  may  also  be  said  of  beer-drinking  that  there  is  less  limitation  to 
it  than  to  the  habitual  use  of  other  drinks.  It  does  not  produce  speedy 
intoxication.  When  the  drinker  becomes  accustomed  to  it,  it  will 
scarcely  produce  active  intoxication  in  any  quantity.  It  makes  him 
heavy,  sleepy,  and  stupid.  Even  in  moderate  quantities,  its  tendency  is 
to  dullness  and  sluggishness  of  body  and  mind.  Beer-drinkers  are  con- 
stant drinkers ;  their  capacity  becomes  unlimited.  The  swilling  of  the 
drink  becomes  a  regular  business ;  it  has  no  arrest  or  suspension,  like 
whiskey-drinking,  to  admit  of  recuperation.  The  old  definition  of  a 
regular  beer-drinker  was  true :  '  Every  morning  a  beer-barrel,  every 
night  a  barrel  of  beer.' " 

Of  all  intoxicating  drinks  it  is  the  most  animal- 
izing.  It  dulls  the  intellectual  and  moral,  and  feeds 
the  sensual  and  beastly  nature.  Beyond  all  other 
drinks  it  qualifies  for  deliberate  and  unprovoked 
crime.  In  this  respect  it  is  much  worse  than  distilled 
liquors. 

"  A  whiskey-drinker  will  commit  murder,  only  under  the  direct  ex- 
citement of  liquor ;  a  beer-drinker  is  capable  of  doing  it  iri^Cold  blood. 
Long  observation  has  assured  us  that  a  large  proportion  of  murders 
deliberately  planned  and  executed  without  passion  or  malice,  with  no 
other  motive  than  the  acquisition  of  property  or  money  —  often  of  trifling 
value  —  are  perpetrated  by  beer-drinkers. 


COMICAL   MISTAKES.  365 

"  We  believe  further,  that  the  hereditary  evils  of  beer-drinking  exceed 
those  proceeding  from  ardent  spirits.  First,  because  the  habit  is  constant 
and  without  paroxysmal  interruptions,  which  admit  of  some  i-ecupera- 
tion;  secondly,  because  beer-drinking  is  practised  by  both  sexes  more 
generally  than  the  spirit-drinking ;  and,  thirdly,  because  the  animalizing 
tendency  of  the  habit  is  more  uniformly  developed,  thus  authorizing  the 
the  presumption  that  the  vicious  results  are  more  generally  transmitted. 

"  It  will  be  inferred  from  these  remarks  that  we  take  no  comfort  from 
the  substitution  of  malt  drinks  for  spirituous  liquors.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  cause  of  apprehension  and  alarm,  that  just  as  public  opinion,  profes- 
sional and  unprofessional,  is  uniting  all  over  the  world  in  the  condemna- 
tion of  the  common  use  of  ardent  spirits,  the  portals  of  danger  and  death 
are  opening  wide  in  another  direction." 

It  is  strange  how  a  report  will  change  in  a  very 
little  travel.  One  story  was,  that  I  said  there  was 
more  drunkenness  among  ministers  and  women  than 
there  was  twenty-eight  years  ago;  and  another, 
which  I  received  the  other  day  marked,  was  very 
much  abbreviated.  This  stated,  "  Gough  says  there 
are  more  ministers  and  women  in  this  country  than 
ever  before." 

I  saw  in  a  recent  paper  a  queer  account  of  my 
interview  with  the  Oxford  students  in  1854.  I  give 
you  the  genuine  and  the  spurious,  just  for  the  "  fun 
of  the  thing."  This  strange  version  is  headed: 

"COUGH'S  CONTEST  WITH  OXFORD  STUDENTS. 

"  An  amusing  story  is  told  of  John  B.  Gough,  when  he  went  to 
Oxford  to  address  the  students  on  temperance.  The  students  sent 
word  to  Mr.  Gough  that  they  'would  not  have  any  temperance,'  and 
advised  him  not  to  persist  in  lecturing ;  but  he  went  to  the  hall.  For 
twenty  minutes  he  spoke  in  pantomime  amid  the  deafening  cat-calls  of 
the  boys.  Finalty,  he  stepped  forward,  demanded  British  fair  play,  and 
offered  to  whip  every  one  of  the  five  hundred  students  singly. 

"His  offer  was  loudly  cheered  and  promptly  accepted,  and  a  big 
six-foot  athlete  was  sent  up  on  the  stage.  Gough,  who  is  a  little  man, 
backed  off  as  the  big  fellow  approached  him,  and  explained,  'My 
friends,  you  evidently  misunderstand  me.  This  is  to  be  an  intellectual 
contest,  not  a  prize-fight.'  The  students  cheered  again  at  this  evidence 
of  the  American's  shrewdness  and  ordered  the  debate  to  proceed.  The 


366  SPURIOUS   AND    ORIGINAL. 

college  lad  was,  therefore,  obliged  to  discuss  with  the  temperance  cham- 
pion. He  was  at  a  disadvantage,  but  he  quoted  Scripture,  and  reminded 
the  plucky  lecturer  that  it  was  one  of  the  apostles  who  wrote  to  Timothy  — 
a  young  man  too,  like  themselves  —  to  take  a  little  wine  for  the  stomach's 
sake  and  for  his  often  infirmities.  The  lads  shouted  vociferously  at  this. 

"Gough  slowly  examined  the  six-footer  from  top  to  toe,  and  then 
said,  'My  friends,  look  at  this  athlete;  this  fellow  with  muscles  like 
steel,  who  can  wield  the  club  of  Hercules,  who  can  bend  an  English 
yeoman's  bow,  who  could  knock  down  an  ox  with  the  blow  of  a  hammer, 
he  is  the  personification  of  health  and  strength,  but  he  thinks  he  needs  a 
little  wine  for  his  stomach's  sake ! '  Gough's  inimitable  manner  of 
saying  this  had  a  tremendous  eflfect.  The  students  fairly  yelled  with 
delight,  and  their  defeated  champion  retreated. 

"  Another  was  sent  up.  He  was  the  intellectual  giant  of  his  class, 
in  contradistinction  to  the  six-footer.  Her  with  much  self-confidence, 
made  a  finished  argument  for  liquor-drinking,  based  on  Christ's  chang- 
ing the  water  into  wine  at  the  wedding-feast.  His  comrades  cheered 
him  to  the  echo,  and  thought  his  argument  unanswerable,  and  Gough 
was  chaffed  for  his  defeat.  '  Young  men,'  said  he,  solemnly,  '  I  admit 
that  your  champion  has  forestalled  me.  He  has  said  to  me  just  what  I 
came  here  to  charge  you  to  do.  Drink  all  the  wine  that  you  can  find  that 
is  made  entirely  out  of  water.1 " 

The  original  statement  I  extract  from  my  autobi- 
ography: 

The  Committee  of  the  London  League  were  very  desirous 
that  I  should  speak  in  Oxford,  On  proposing  it  to  the 
friends  of  temperance  in  that  city,  they  stated  that  it  was 
doubtful  if  such  a  meeting  could  be  held.  A  certain  class  of 
students  had  been  in  the  habit  of  disturbing  concerts,  lectures, 
and  the  like,  and  it  was  thought  they  could  not  resist  the 
opportunity  of  having  some  "  fun  "  at  a  temperance  lecture, 
—  a  subject  held  in  contempt  by  a  majority  in  the  class  to 
which  these  Oxford  students  belonged,  —  and  their  "fun" 
was  occasionally  rough.  They  had  smoked  out  a  gentleman 
who  came  to  lecture  to  them  on  tobacco.  Some  scores  of 
pipes  and  cigars  were  in  full  blast.  The  Oxford  friends  stated 
also  that  though  they  would  do  all  they  could  to  assist  in  the 
arrangements,  and  promote  the  success  of  the  meeting,  no 
person  known  in  that  city  would  venture  to  preside,  and  the 
project  had  better  be  abandoned.  The  London  committee 


FUN   AT   OXFORD.  367 

were  determined  to  make  an  attempt  to  get  a  hearing  for  me 
there  ;  and  I  having  consented,  and  a  gentleman  from  London 
having  agreed  to  preside,  the  evenings  of  Wednesday  and 
Friday,  June  13th  and  15th,  were  appointed. 

I  went  down  to  Oxford  with  three  or  four  gentlemen  of 
the  League.  On  entering  the  hall  I  found  a  large  number  of 
students,  distinguished  by  their  flat  caps  and  gowns.  The 
introduction  passed  off  quietly,  and  I  was  received  with  noisy 
demonstrations,  not  exactly  complimentary.  I  proceeded  in 
my  speech.  The  majority  seemed  to  be  looking  at  me  cu- 
riously, as  I  supposed  a  pugilist  looks  at  his  antagonist, 
watching  the  first  opportunity  to  give  him  a  "  settler."  At 
length  I  said,  "  What  is  the  cause  of  the  intemperance  of 
Great  Britain?"  when  a  thin  squeaking  voice  called  out, 
"  Tempewanth  Thothietieth."  At  this  there  was  a  universal 
laugh  ;  but  I  happened  to  catch  the  exact  tone  of  the  speaker, 
and  replied,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ;  but  it  is  not  '  Tempe- 
wanth Thothietieth '  at  all." 

Then  there  was  another  laugh,  and  the  noise  began, — 
laughing,  whistling,  crowing,  braying,  but  no  hissing.  They 
were  good-tempered,  and  simply  wanted  the  "fun"  —  and 
I  sympathized  with  them  in  that.  A  little  harmless  fun  will 
hurt  nobody. 

The  scene  became  so  irresistibly  ludicrous,  and  the  young 
gentlemen  went  into  it  with  such  a  perfect  abandon,  and  such 
evident  enjoyment,  that,  though  I  felt  compelled  to  maintain 
my  dignity,  (such  as  it  was,)  I  was  thoroughly  amused,  and 
internally  chuckled  while  striving  to  keep  my  face  straight. 
The  volley  of  questions  that  were  hurled  at  me  —  some  of 
them  ridiculously  personal,  and  some  bordering  on  the  pro- 
fane —  were  incessant  for  some  time.  There  was  no  abuse, 
but  simply  rollicking  fun.  I  kept  my  position  on  the  plat- 
form, though  I  could  not  be  heard.  At  every  lull  I  would 
say,  "  Gentlemen,"  and  then  would  come  a  storm  of  cheering. 
Look  which  way  I  would,  I  saw  laughing  faces.  I  turned  to 
the  chairman,  and  was  amused  to  see  him  with  a  broad  grin, 
and  his  mouth  wide  open,  enjoying  it  hugely,  till  he  saw  me 
looking  at  him,  when  his  mouth  closed  instantly,  and  he  made 


368  FAIR   PLAY   IS   A  JEWEL. 

futile  efforts  to  look  grave  and  serious ;  but  in  spite  of  his 
sober  face,  his  eyes  were  twinkling  with  merriment.  What 
was  I  to  do  ?  It  would  never  do  to  give  it  up  so.  Their 
questions  became,  after  a  while,  more  serious  and  answerable. 

One  called  out,  "  Who  turned  water  into  wine  ?  " 

To  which  I  replied,  so  that  they  could  hear  me,  "  We  have 
no  objection  to  wine  made  of  water." 

Then  came  a  string  of  Bible  questions. 

In  one  of  the  pauses  of  the  din,  I  said  in  a  loud  tone  of 
voice,  "  Gentlemen,  fair  play  is  a  jewel." 

At  this  they  cheered,  and  some  shouted,  "  Fair  play  ! " 

I  said,  "  What's  the  Englishman's  motto  ?  —  Fair  play." 

"  Yes,  fair  play  !  " 

"  Down  in  front ! " 

"Hats  off!" 

"  Caps  on  !  " 

"  Hurrah  !  " 

"  Fair  play  !  " 

Again  I  shouted,  "  Fair  play !  "  and  then  said,  "  Gentle- 
men, I  have  a  proposition  that  I  think  will  please  you  —  and 
I  like  to  please  my  audience." 

"  Let's  have  it." 

"  Proposition  !  proposition  !  " 

"Hush-sh-sh!" 

I  said,  "  We  all  believe  in  fair  play,  and  this  surely  is 
not  fair  play  ;  so  many  of  you  attacking  one,  and  he  a  little 
one.  My  proposition  will  give  us  all  fair  play." 

"  Proposition  !  proposition  !  " 

"  Stop  that  noise  I  " 

"  Hush-sh-sh  ! " 

"  Down  in  front !  " 

"  The  proposition  is,  that  you  choose  your  champion,  and 
he  shall  take  the  platform,  and  he  and  I  will  take  it  ten  min- 
utes —  turn  about  —  and  the  rest  of  the  audience  shall  judge 
who  is  the  victor  in  this  contest,  —  he,  or  I.  That's  fair." 

"  Yes,  yes,  that's  fair  ; "  and  there  were  some  comical  pro- 
posals as  to  champion,  and,  as  I  suppose,  personal  hits ;  for 
there  was  loud  laughing  where  I  could  not  see  the  point. 


END   OF   THE   ROW.  369 

But  after  a  little  confusion,  no  champion  appearing,  I  was 
permitted,  with  very  slight  interruption,  to  continue  to  the 
end  of  my  speech,  and  received  hearty  cheers  at  the  con- 
clusion. 

The  next  evening  my  wife  and  I  attended,  by  invitation, 
a  rendering  of  (Edipus  by  Vandenhoff  and  his  daughter,  the 
choruses  being  sung  by  the  choirs  of  the  cathedral,  assisted 
by  amateurs  among  the  students.  It  was  very  fine.  I  was 
recognized  with  a  smile  by  some  who  were  at  the  meeting 
the  night  before. 

23 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 


ON  THE    PLATFORM  —  PERSONAL   EXPERIENCES  AS  A 
PUBLIC    SPEAKER. 

The  Judge's  Speech  —  Power  of  his  Example  —  "  Give  it  to  him,  Old 
Man  "  —  Self-Possession  necessary  under  Embarrassments  —  Man  in 
Faneuil  Hall,  and  Story  for  his  Benefit  —  Woman  and  her  Crying 
Child  —  "Did  he  lose  his  Eggs?"  —  One  Handkerchief  for  Two  — 
Power  of  Audience  over  the  Speaker  —  The  Man  with  the  Newspaper 
—  How  the  whispering  Young  Ladies  were  stopped  —  Cultivation  of 
the  Voice  —  Power  of  Sarcasm  —  The  Donkey  at  Snowdon  —  Sar- 
casm of  O'Connell  on  Benjamin  Disraeli  —  John  Randolph  and  the 
"Vacant"  Seat  —  Tom  Marshall's  "Demijohn"  all  but  the  Straw  — 
Personal  Experience  under  Trying  Circumstances  —  "  Here's  one  of 
your  Cigars,  Mr.  Gough  "  —  Quotations  from  Locke  and  Walter  Scott 
which  were  not  Quotations. 


following  expresses  the  contrast 
between  what  is  genuine  and  the  re- 
ported. I  find  in  a  paper  the  follow- 
ing: 

"At  a  great  meeting  at  which  Mr.  John  B.  Gough 
spoke,  in  America,  the  card  of  a  gentleman,  a  judge 
in  the  place,  was  sent  up,  as  he  desired  to  speak. 

"  '  I  beg  to  differ  in  toto  with  everything  said  by 
the  lecturer.  I  began  with  nothing,  and  worked  my 
way  up  to  the  top  of  my  profession,  and  have  been  a 
moderate  drinker  all  my  life;  and  if  people  would  only  follow  my 
example,  there  would  be  no  drunkards.' 

"A  man  in  the  gallery  called  out,  '  Hear,  hear! ' 

"As  the  judge  went  on  speaking,  that '  Hear,  hear! '  was  changed  into 
'Go  it,  old  chap!'  'Hit  him  again!'  'Get  your  name  up!'  'Sit  upon 
him!' 

370 


"PUT   THAT   MAN   OUT."  371 

"And  while  this  was  going  on,  everybody  saw  that  the  poor  fellow 
was  drunk. 

"  The  chairman  jumped  up  and  said,  '  Let  us  turn  that  man  out.' 
"Away  rushed  three  or  four  to  seize  him  by  the  neck,  and  were  pull- 
ing him  outside  the  meeting,  when  somebody  came  up  and  whispered  a 
word,  '  Let  him  alone ; '  and  then  he  held  out  his  hand  to  support  the 
judge's  own  son.' " 

The  original  is  as  follows: 

At  a  meeting  in  a  large  town  in  Pennsylvania,  at 
the  close  of  the  lecture  a  gentleman  rose  and  was 
announced  as  Judge  So-and-so,  judge  of  the  quarter- 
sessions.  He  said: 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen :  Before  the  audience  is  dis- 
missed I  wish  to  say  a  few  words  in  defence  of  myself 
and  the  class  I  represent.  Now,  it  is  very  hard  to 
have  it  publicly  stated  that  I  set  a  bad  example." 

The  speaker  had  not  said  that  the  moderate  drinker 
set  a  ~bad  example,  but  that  he  did  not  set  a  good  one. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  am  a  moderate  drinker.  Every- 
body knows  me.  I  take  my  glass  at  home;  I  take  it 
abroad.  I  am  a  moderate  drinker,  —  a  respectable, 
moderate  drinker.  Who  dares  say  anything  against 
me?  Who  ever  saw  me  the  worse  for  drink?  Who 
ever  saw  me  out  of  the  way  by  drink?  If  young 
men  followed  my  example,  they  would  be  as  I  am, 
respectable  and  respected.  I  challenge  the  town  in 
which  I  live,  I  challenge  the  county,  to  say  whether 
my  example  is  a  bad  one.  Let  young  men  follow  my 
example,  and  they  will  be  as  I  am." 

A  man  in  the  audience  cried  out,  "  Give  it  to  him, 
old  man;  give  it  to  him!  Put  a  head  on  him!  " 

Some  one  said,  "  Put  that  man  out !  " 

Another  gentleman  said,  "  No ;  let  that  man  re- 
main :  he  is  the  only  son  of  the  judge." 

His  only  son  tried  to  follow  his  example,  and  there 


372  EFFECT   OF   A  HISS. 

was  the  result:  he  was  so  drunk  that  he  would  dis- 
turb a  respectable  meeting. 

I  have  made  a  long  digression,  and  will  now  return 
to  the  relation  of  some  of  my  experiences  as  a  public 
speaker. 

Like  all  other  speakers,  probably,  I  have  been 
placed  in  embarrassing  circumstances,  and  a  certain 
amount  of  self-possession  has  been  necessary  to  over- 
come an  unexpected  difficulty  or  opposition,  espe- 
cially such  an  interruption  as  often  occurred  in  the 
earlier  days  of  temperance  work.  On  such  an  occa- 
sion I  lost  all  fear,  and  became  self-possessed,  watch- 
ing for  an  opportunity  to  retaliate.  The  secretary  of 
the  National  League  in  London  once  told  me  that  he 
was  tempted  to  induce  some  one  to  hiss  me,  as  the 
sound  of  a  hiss  seemed  to  stir  me  up  to  a  more 
vigorous  speech. 

I  was  never  utterly  put  down  by  an  opposition  in 
my  public  addresses.  I  have  been  sorely  tried.  On 
more  than  one  occasion  I  found  it  was  of  no  use  to 
employ  arguments  with  those  who  were  determined 
to  annoy  me,  but  if  possible  would  think  of  some  apt 
story  to  get  the  laugh  on  them ;  and  then  I  always  suc- 
ceeded in  maintaining  my  ground. 

A  man  in  Fanueil  Hall  had  troubled  me  by  inter- 
ruptions, with  insolent  and  profane  remarks,  for  some 
time,  until  I  felt  the  necessity  of  quieting  him.  My 
indignation  was  roused  by  seeing  under  the  gallery 
some  liquor-sellers  enjoying  the  fan  hugely,  and  aid- 
ing the  man  by  loud  laughing  at  every  impudent 
remark  he  made.  I  also  discovered  that  the  man  was 
slightly  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  So,  pausing 
in  my  speech,  I  said: 

"  My  friend,  I  pity  you;  for  you  are  doing  the  dirty 


A  JOKING   MERCHANT.  373 

work  of  men  who  dare  not  do  it  themselves.  You 
are  serving  your  masters  and  employers,  who  sit  here 
in  this  audience  encouraging  you  in  doing  what  you 
never  would  dream  of  were  you  not  set  on  by  others. 
You  look  like  a  sensible  man,  and  I  should  like  to 
tell  you  a  story  of  which  you  remind  me." 

The  man  said,  "  Let's  have  the  story." 

"  Well,  you  listen,  and  I'll  tell  it  to  you. 

"  A  certain  merchant,  who  was  sadly  afflicted  with 
stammering,  had  one  joke  which  he  related  to  every 
one  who  would  listen  to  him.  His  clerks  had  repeat- 
edly heard  this  joke,  and  were  familiar  with  it.  One 
day  a  stranger  came  into  the  store.  The  merchant 
accosted  him  with,  '  Can  you  tell  me  wh-why  it  was 
th-h-at  B-B-B— why  it  w-was  that  — that  B-B  — 
wh-wh-why  it  was  th-that  B-B  — '  One  of  the  clerks, 
seeing  his  employer's  difficulty,  said,  'He  wants  to 
know  if  you  can  tell  him  why  Balaam's  ass  spoke.' 
4 Yes,'  said  the  stranger,  'I  guess  I  can.  I  reckon 
Balaam  was  a  stuttering  man,  and  got  his  ass  to  do 
his  talking  for  him.' ' 

The  man  laughed  with  the  others,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  got  up  and  left  the  hall. 

On  another  occasion  I  silenced  a  man  who  was 
quite  noisy,  when  the  audience  cried,  "Put  him  out! " 
by  saying,  "Do  not  put  him  out;  let  him  remain:  he 
reminds  me  of  the  woman  who  was  taking  her  squall- 
ing child  out  of  church,  when  the  minister  said,  *  Do 
not  take  the  baby  out;  it  does  not  disturb  me.'  *]^o,' 
said  the  woman;  'but  you  disturb  the  baby.'  This 
baby  does  not  disturb  me,  but  I  probably  disturb 
him." 

There  are  some  persons  in  every  audience  on  whom 
your  best  illustrations  produce  no  effect.  They  are 


374  DID   HE   LOSE   HIS   EGGS? 

interested  in  the  material  or  main  chance,  and  care 
but  little  for  romance  or  poetry. 

I  have  a  curious  letter  from  a  student  in  one  of 
our  Western  colleges,  which  I  copy  here: 

"DEAR  SIR:  Several  years  ago,  while  attending  college  in  the 
Michigan  University,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  you  lecture.  During 
your  lecture  you  related  a  thrilling  incident  about  a  man  being  let  down 
from  the  top  of  a  perpendicular  cliff  of  rocks  to  a  great  distance  below, 
over  the  waves  of  the  sea,  by  means  of  a  basket  and  rope,  for  the 
purpose  of  gathering  the  eggs  of  sea-birds  in  the  ledges  below;  and 
that  when  being  drawn  up  he  was  attacked  by  an  eagle,  and,  in  striking 
at  it  with  a  knife,  cut  the  rope  very  nearly  in  two;  and  that  when  he  was 
finally  drawn  up,  his  hair  had  turned  perfectly  white  from  terror. 

"  The  next  morning  after  your  lecture  a  young  man  related  the  inci- 
dent at  the  breakfast-table  of  his  boarding-house  to  a  number  of  students, 
the  landlord  and  lady,  and  the  landlord's  mother,  who  was  far  advanced 
in  age.  When  he  had  finished  the  story,  and  had  told  how  the  man  was 
frightened  gray  by  his  perilous  situation,  the  old  lady  raised  her  spec- 
tacles and  inquired,  with  much  curiosity,  '  Well,  did  he  lose  his  eggs?  '  " 

Occasionally,  the  most  practised  speaker  will  be 
thrown  off  his  guard  if  not  self-possessed,  and  even 
with  all  his  self-possession  may  be  considerably  dis- 
turbed. As  he  sees  all  before  him,  some  trifling  inci- 
dent, some  untoward  accident,  may  upset  his  gravity. 

At  one  time,  a  couple  were  seated  before  me  on  the 
front  seat.  They  had  evidently  come  to  hear  what 
was  to  be  said;  just  the  people  one  likes  to  speak  to. 
They  were  not  critical,  but  came  to  the  hall  to  be 
pleased  (and  it  depends  very  much  on  the  audience 
whether  they  are  pleased  or  not). 

Sit  cold,  critical,  determined  not  to  be  moved,  and 
let  the  speaker  see  the  slight  sneer  on  your  face  at 
his  efforts.  Look  at  him,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  What 
are  you  going  to  do  next?  "  and  you  will  so  destroy 
the  elasticity  of  any  speaker,  that,  if  he  has  not  the 
ability  to  turn  from  you,  he  will  be  seriously  embar- 


HASDKEKCHIKF   FOB   TWO.  375 

rassed.  But  take  your  place  with  the  desire  to  be 
interested,  look  at  the  speaker  as  if  you  would  say, 
"  "We  have  come  expecting  and  desiring  to  be  pleased ; 
now  do  your  best,  and  we  will  show  our  approval," 
and  you  encourage  him  to  do  his  best. 

There  are  audiences  that  are  positively  cruel  to  a 
speaker,  and  who,  without  intending  a  wrong,  may 
do  essential  and  permanent  injury  to  a  timid  speaker, 
who  by  a  little  encouragement  might  be  a  splendid 
success.  The  audience  can  hardly  understand  how 
much  life  an  occasional  expression  of  approval  may 
put  into  a  speaker. 

But  to  return  to  my  couple.  They  were  a  middle- 
aged  pair,  who  attracted  my  attention  at  once.  As  I 
arose,  they  greeted  me  with  a  smile,  and  evidently 
settled  themselves  to  listen.  As  I  proceeded,  I  found 
them  growing  more  and  more  interested,  and  at  every 
point  I  made,  one  would  nod  at  the  other.  At  a  funny 
story  they  laughed  heartily.  By  and  by  I  related  a 
very  pathetic  incident.  Then  the  smiling  face  was 
changed  to  a  sober,  then  to  a  sad,  expression.  Soon 
the  man  began  to  sniff  a  little,  feeling  at  the  same 
time  for  his  handkerchief,  which  he  did  not  find,  hav- 
ing probably  forgotten  it  and  left  it  at  home.  He 
felt  in  each  of  his  pockets,  then  he  wiped  his  eyes 
with  his  hand.  Seeing  his  wife's  handkerchief  in  her 
lap,  he  took  it  and  began  using  it.  The  wife  soon 
began  to  sniff,  and  felt  for  her  handkerchief.  Missing 
it,  she  found  her  husband  using  it;  and  so,  with  a 
loving,  wifely  motion,  she  leaned  toward  him,  and 
taking  one  end  of  the  handkerchief,  she  wiped  her 
eyes  with  it.  The  sight  of  that  pleasant  couple,  wip- 
ing their  eyes  with  the  same  handkerchief,  so  excited 
my  sense  of  the  absurd,  that  I  had  hard  work  to  keep 


376  SHE   HAS  A  BEAU. 

my  face  sober,  and  was  compelled  to  look  in  another 
direction  to  maintain  my  gravity. 

Then  again,  a  speaker  may  be  considerably  annoyed 
and  perhaps  vexed  by  the  conduct  of  some  one  person 
in  his  audience.  A  man  once  sat  before  me,  who,  in 
the  midst  of  my  speech,  ostentatiously  drew  out  a 
newspaper,  opened  it,  and  began  to  read,  turning  it 
over  with  a  very  unpleasant  rattle.  I  bore  it  as  long 
as  I  thought  it  best,  then  I  said  a  few  words  request- 
ing him  to  bear  with  the  speaker's  lack  of  power  to 
interest  him,  and  to  go  to  sleep  rather  than  to  disturb 
those  who  desired  to  listen. 

Once  a  couple  of  young  ladies  had  taken  a  seat 
directly  in  front  of  me,  and  I  had  hardly  commenced 
when  they  began  to  whisper  and  giggle,  and  became 
so  excited  in  their  conversation  that  they  were  evi- 
dently annoying  others.  I  did  not  like  to  tell  them  to 
stop  talking,  so  I  said :  "  A  minister  told  me  that  he 
regretted  very  much  rebuking  two  young  ladies  who 
were  disturbing  him  and  others  by  talking  during  his 
discourse,  for  he  was  told  that  one  of  these  young 
ladies  had  just  secured  a  beau,  and  that  she  was  so 
exceedingly  tickled  about  it,  she  could  not  refrain  on 
all  occasions  when  she  could  get  a  listener  from  expa- 
tiating on  the  dear  young  man's  perfections:  there 
seemed  to  be  so  many  of  them  she  could  never  ex- 
haust the  enumeration ;  and  when  she  began  to  talk 
about  her  beau,  she  went  on  interminably.  Just  so 
whenever  I  see  two  young  ladies  talking  together  in 
a  church,  or  at  a  lecture,  I  imagine  one  or  the  other, 
or  both,  have  got  a  beau,  and  it  would  be  hardly  fair 
to  disturb  them,  so  I  let  them  talk."  The  whisperers 
troubled  me  no  more. 

Endure  all  you  can  before  putting  any  of  your 


CULTIVATE   THE   VOICE.  377 

audience  to  shame.  There  are  a  few  cases  that  de- 
serve the  punishment,  but  it  is  best  to  avoid  it  as  far 
as  possible. 

I  would  advise  every  aspirant  to  eloquence  to  care- 
fully cultivate  the  voice,  to  acquire  a  perfect  command 
of  that  organ  if  possible.  By  careful,  earnest,  and 
frequent  training,  a  defective  voice  may  not  only  be 
improved,  but  an  astonishing  mastery  be  gained  over 
it.  A  naturally  harsh  voice,  which  without  cultiva- 
tion would  grate  upon  the  ear  of  others,  may  be  so 
brought  into  subjection  as  to  become  musical  in  its 
modulations.  A  power  may  be  gained  of  uttering 
loud,  clear,  prolonged,  trumpet  tones,  or  sounds  as 
sweet  and  penetrating  as  the  echoes  lingering  about 
the  soul  long  after  it  has  ceased  haunting  it  —  as 
some  voices  will  forever. 

~No  man  with  an  incurable  defect  in  his  voice  should 
seek  to  become  an  orator.  Think  of  a  speaker  at- 
tempting pathos  or  sublimity,  if  he  pronounces  m  like 
5,  and  n  like  d.  "O  by  bother,  by  bother!  "  "My 
dabe  is  Dorval !  "  "  Freds,  Robads,  cudtrybed !  "  The 
power  and  beauty  of  language  are  utterly  destroyed. 

I  once  heard  a  man  who  preached  occasionally,  and 
who  invariably  pronounced  n  like  I.  For  instance: 
"  My  brethrel,  pass  roul  the  coltributiol  box,  but  dolt 
put  rusty  lails  or  buttols  ill,  but  mully.  If  you  put 
ill  buttols,  put  'em  ill  with  holes  ill  'em,  lot  with  all  the 
holes  jailed  ilto  wull!  " 

But,  seriously,  a  cultivated  or  a  naturally  good 
voice  is  one  great  essential.  It  is  said  that  when  Wil- 
liam Pitt  uttered  his  torrents  of  indignant  censure,  or 
withering  sarcasm,  his  voice  assumed  an  almost  ter- 
rific sound. 

The  power  of  sarcasm  should  be  used  with  great 


378  DONKEYS  AT   SNOWDON. 

discretion  and  moderation.  A  man  may  utterly  lose 
his  cause,  and  even  excite  hostility,  by  a  too  free  use 
of  this  dangerous  and  yet  powerful  agent.  There  are 
cases  where  sarcasm,  as  in  a  retort,  may  be  withering 
to  an  opponent,  and  gain  for  you  the  sympathy  and 
applause  of  your  audience. 

A  friend  of  mine  in  London  possessed  this  power 
in  an  eminent  degree.  Any  officious  person  who  in- 
terrupted him  was  sure  to  get  the  worst  of  it.  On 
one  occasion  he  was  speaking  to  a  large  audience, 
and  said: 

"You  remember,  Mr.  President,  when  we  visited 
Snowdon  we  saw  the  tourists  on  then*  donkeys  as- 
cending the  mountain." 

A  man  in  the  audience  shouted  out: 

"  There  ain't  no  donkeys  in  Snowdon !  " 

"Ah!"  said  the  speaker;  "a  gentleman  tells  us 
there  are  no  donkeys  at  Snowdon." 

"  There  never  was  a  donkey  in  Snowdon,"  replied 
the  man. 

"How  do  you  know,  sir?"  was  the  question  from 
the  platform. 

"  Because  I've  been  there  myself,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Oh !  "  said  my  friend.  "  Now,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, this  individual  tells  this  respectable  audience 
there  never  was  a  donkey  in  Snowdon,  and  in  the 
same  breath  informs  them  that  he  has  been  there 
himself." 

The  man  was  utterly  crushed,  though  he  was  right, 
and  the  speaker  was  wrong,  for  there  are  no  donkeys 
used  at  Snowdon,  as  the  ascent  is  made  on  small 
ponies. 

I  think  one  of  the  most  terrible  sarcasms  on  record 
is  that  made  by  Daniel  O'Connell  on  Benjamin  Dis- 


RANDOLPH'S  SAKCASM.  379 

raeli.  Disraeli  had  left  the  party  of  the  Liberator, 
and  had  indulged  in  severe  personal  attacks  on 
O'Connell,  who  replied  in  a  tone  of  unexampled  bit- 
terness, and  concluded  with  these  terrible  words: 

"  I  cannot  divest  my  mind  of  the  belief  that  if  this 
fellow's  genealogy  was  traced,  it  would  be  found 
that  he  is  the  lineal  descendant  and  true  heir-at-law 
of  the  impenitent  thief  who  atoned  for  his  crimes  on 
the  cross." 

Disraeli  being  of  Jewish  extraction,  this  struck  him 
like  a  poisoned  arrow. 

I  suppose  that  John  Randolph  was  the  most  sar- 
castic of  human  beings,  and  made  himself  many  ene- 
mies by  its  too  free  use.  He  could  select  at  will,  and 
at  once,  the  very  word  that  would  sting.  On  one  oc- 
casion, a  gentleman,  who  had  been  elected  in  the 
place  of  a  colleague  of  Randolph's,  who  had  died, 
made  a  furious  onslaught  on  him.  He  never  looked 
from  the  paper  before  him  while  his  opponent  was 
speaking,  but  soon  after  arose,  and  in  the  course  of 
his  remarks  paid  a  glowing  tribute  to  the  memory  of 
his  departed  friend.  Then,  with  his  long  finger  point- 
ing toward  the  seat  that  was  occupied  by  his  oppo- 
nent, —  he  said : 

"Mr.  Speaker,  when  I  look  at  the  seat  so  long 
and  ably  occupied  by  my  honorable  friend,  my  heart 
is  sad  to  find  that  seat  vacant" 

I  believe  it  was  Tom  Marshall  who,  during  a  speech 
at  Baltimore,  when  interrupted  by  a  half-drunken 
man,  with,  "You're  a  demagogue,"  turned  quickly  to 
the  man  and  said,  "If  you  had  a  wisp  of  straw 
around  your  neck  you  would  be  a  demijohn." 

The  only  instance  of  embarrassment  I  could  not 
overcome,  occurred  many  years  ago.  It  was  my  own 


380  AWAY  WENT   THE    CIGARS. 

fault,  and  proved  a  sharp  lesson  to  me.  I  was  en- 
gaged to  address  a  large  number  of  children  in  the 
afternoon,  the  meeting  to  be  held  on  the  lawn  back 
of  the  Baptist  church  in  Providence,  ~R.  I.  In  the 
forenoon  a  friend  met  me  and  said: 

"I  have  some  first-rate  cigars,  will  you  take  a 
few?" 

"  No,  I  thank  you." 

"  Do  take  half  a  dozen." 

"  I  have  nowhere  to  put  them." 

"  You  can  put  half  a  dozen  in  your  cap." 

"  I  wore  a  cap  in  those  days,  and  I  put  the  cigars 
into  it,  and  at  the  appointed  time  I  went  to  the  meet- 
ing. I  ascended  the  platform  and  faced  an  audience 
of  more  than  two  thousand  children.  As  it  was  out 
of  doors  I  kept  my  cap  on,  for  fear  of  taking  cold, 
and  I  forgot  all  about  the  cigars. 

Towards  the  close  of  my  speech  I  became  much  in 
earnest,  and  after  warning  the  boys  against  bad  com- 
pany, bad  habits,  and  the  saloons,  I  said: 

"Now,  boys,  let  us  give  three  rousing  cheers  for 
temperance  and  for  cold  water.  Now,  then,  three 
cheers.  Hurrah ! " 

And  taking  off  my  cap,  I  waved  it  most  vigor- 
ously, when  away  went  the  cigars  right  into  the  midst 
of  the  audience. 

The  remaining  cheers  were  very  faint,  and  were 
nearly  drowned  in  the  laughter  of  the  crowd. 

I  was  mortified  and  ashamed,  and  should  have  been 
relieved  could  I  have  sunk  through  the  platform  out 
of  sight.  My  feelings  were  still  more  aggravated  by 
a  boy  coming  up  the  steps  of  the  platform  with  one 
of  those  dreadful  cigars,  saying: 


WE  ARE   BORtf.  381 

"  Here's  one  of  your  cigars,  Mr.  Gough." 

Though  I  never  afterwards  put  cigars  in  my  cap  or 
hat,  when  going  to  a  meeting,  I  am  ashamed  to  say  it 
was  some  time  after  that  before  I  gave  up  cigars  alto- 
gether. 

As  already  recorded,  I  have  always  avoided  com- 
mitting any  portion  of  a  speech  to  memory;  that  is, 
the  phraseology.  I  get  the  idea,  and  perhaps  may 
use  the  same  words  at  every  repetition  of  the  sen- 
tence, but  never  charging  my  memory  with  the  words, 
allowing  the  opportunity  of  changing  at  will. 

When  I  attempt  to  make  a  quotation  it  often  ends 
in  a  blunder. 

I  attempted  once  to  quote  the  sentence:  "Locke 
says  we  are  born  wkh  powers  and  faculties  capable 
of  almost  anything." 

I  began  very  confidently  with  my  quotation.  "  Locke 
says,  *  we  are  born.' ' 

There  I  stuck  fast,  and  could  not  remember  another 
word. 

So  I  said,  "  We  are  born ;  I  suppose  we  are  born ; 
but  what  we  are  born  for  in  this  connection,  I  am 
sure  I  do  not  know." 

Before  a  very  dull  audience,  at  one  time,  I  caused 
the  only  laughter  that  was  heard  during  the  address, 
by  a  confusion  of  syllables. 

I  intended  to  say,  "  Walter  Scott  once,  on  hearing 
his  daughter  say  of  something  that  it  was  vulgar. 
asked  her  if  she  knew  the  meaning  of  the  word 
'  vulgar.'  '  It  is  only  common,  and  nothing  common 
except  wickedness  deserves  contempt.' ': 

I  began  all  right.  "  Walter  Scott  once,  on  hearing  his 
daughter  say  of  something  that  it  was  vulgar,  asked 


382  A   QUEER   INTRODUCTION. 

her  if  she  knew  the  meaning  of  the  word  '  vulgar.' 
*  It  is  only  common,  and  nothing  except  wicked  — 
commonness  —  nothing  wicked  except  commonness 
—  nothing  except  common  wickedness  —  nothing  de- 
serves wickedness  —  Dear  me !  nothing  except  con- 
tempt deserves  wickedness.' ' 

I  finished  by  saying,  "  I  do  not  know  what  the  man 
said  to  his  daughter,  and  I  am  sure  I  do  not  care !  " 

I  have  been  sometimes  embarrassed  by  an  introduc- 
tion. In  Lockerbie,  Scotland,  a  chairman  thus  intro- 
duced me : 

"  I  wish  to  introduce  to  you  Mr.  Gough,  who  is  to 
speak  to  us  on  the  subject  of  temperance,  and  I  hope 
he  will  prove  far  better  than  he  looks  to  be." 

In  my  Autobiography  I  have  narrated  many  curi- 
ous incidents  of  my  public  life  as  a  speaker,  which  I 
will  not  repeat,  only  to  say,  that  however  faulty  my 
speeches  may  be  in  their  construction,  I  know  they 
have  been  useful  to  many.  In  England,  they  have 
been  recited,  read  at  meetings  hundreds  of  times,  and 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  printed  copies  have  been 
sold  there.  Extracts  have  been  published,  and  selec- 
tions in  the  form  of  leaflets,  illustrated,  have  been 
scattered  broadcast.  It  is  estimated  that  the  penny 
edition,  containing  one  lecture  to  each  number,  has 
been  sold  to  the  extent  of  one  million  copies.  Thirty- 
six  different  lectures  have  been  published. 

AVhen  in  England,  three  reporters  from  London 
followed  me  for  weeks.  Four  London  papers  pub- 
lished my  speeches  in  full;  and  extracts  from  them 
were  published  in  several  other  metropolitan  papers, 
besides  reports  in  local  papers.  My  Autobiography 
was  published  and  circulated  to  the  extent  of  over  a 


FAVORABLE   RECEPTION.  383 

hundred  thousand  copies.  I  write  of  these  facts  not 
in  egotism,  but  thankful  that  my  utterances  on  tem- 
perance were  received  with  favor,  and  that  I  enjoyed 
the  privilege  of  speaking  to  so  many  thousands  by 
the  powerful  aid  of  the  press. 


CHAPTER  XXYH. 

MEN  I  HAVE  KNOWN  —  PULPIT  AND  OTHER  ORATORS 
OF  GREAT  BRITAIN. 


Public  Speakers  —  Lectures  I  have  heard  —  Personal  Experience  as  to 
Public  Occasions  —  Ministerial  and  other  Acquaintances  —  Thomas 
Guthrie,  D.D.  —  The  Audience  —  Guthrie's  Philanthropy  —  His  Ap- 
pearance in  the  Pulpit  —  Not  a  "Weeping  Preacher"  —  My  First 
Impressions  —  Power  of  his  Utterance  —  William  Arnot,  D.D.  — 
Appeai-ance  and  Manner  —  "  Figs  of  Thistles  "  —  Newman  Hall,  D.D.  — 
Lincoln  Tower  of  Christ  Church  —  Mr.  Martin  of  Westminster  Chapel  — 
Strange  Texts  —  "  Man  of  One  Book"  —  Cowper's  Model  Preacher  — 
Some  of  my  Chairmen  —  Lord  Shaftesbury  —  John  Bright  —  Bright's 
Speech  at  Henry  Darby's  Feast  —  Sir  Fitzroy  Kelley  :  his  Style  and 
Manner  —  Joseph  Parker,  D.D.  —  Immense  Power  —  Pulpit  Apolo- 
getic Manners  out  of  Place  —  Dr.  Parker  at  Home,  and  as  a  Preacher 
—  First  Impressions  of  the  Preacher  —  Vividness  of  Description  — 
"God's  Testimony  against  Sin"  —  Sins  of  Presumption  —  Where  do 
Texts  come  from? 


speakers  have  few  opportunities 
to  hear  others  speak.  If  a  lecturer,  he  is 
busily  employed  during  "the  season;" 
if  a  minister,  he  has  his  own  pulpit  to 
fill.  Lawyers  and  members  of  Congress 
are  exceptions,  I  suppose.  Many  of 
them  hear  more  speaking  than  is  per- 
haps desirable  or  profitable  for  them.  For 
my  own  part  I  may  say  that  I  have  literally 
heard  no  public  speakers,  except  in  the  pulpit.  I  have 
no  recollection  of  ever  attending  a  political  meeting 
but  once.  384 


LECTURES  I  HAVE  HEARD.          385 

I  have  heard  but  four  lectures  in  my  life ;  one  from 
Rev.  "Wm.  Arnot,  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  in 
Exeter  Hall,  subject,  "The  earth  fitted  and  framed 
for  the  habitation  of  man ; "  one  from  Clara  Barton, 
in  Crosby's  Opera  House,  in  1867,  on  her  "  Work  in 
the  Army  during  the  Civil  War; "  one  from  Miss  Wil- 
lard,  in  Mechanics  Hall,  Worcester,  in  1876,  on  the 
"Women's  Temperance  Reform;"  and  one,  in  1878, 
from  Dr.  B.  W.  Richardson,  in  Exeter  Hall,  on 
"  Moderate  Drinking." 

I  have  heard  several  temperance  speeches  at  con- 
ventions or  anniversaries,  when  I  was  to  speak  my- 
self. I  have  never  heard  a  literary  lecture  in  America. 
I  have  never  attended  a  religious  anniversary  except 
to  speak  myself,  when  I  have  occasionally  heard  short 
speeches.  At  Sabbath  school  and  Bible  conventions 
I  have  enjoyed  brief  addresses,  but  only  under  the 
pressure  of  my  own  coming  speech.  I  have  never 
attended  a  meeting  of  the  American  Board  of  Foreign 
Missions.  I  have  never  heard  a  speech  in  Congress, 
except  on  two  or  three  occasions,  for  five  or  ten  min- 
utes at  a  time.  Therefore  I  can  give  no  opinion  of 
any  speakers  except  the  pulpit  orators  I  have  heard; 
and,  from  the  fact  that  I  have  generally  travelled 
eight  months  in  the  year,  though  I  have  listened  to 
some  hundreds  of  ministers  for  a  single  sermon,  I 
have  rarely  been  privileged  to  "  sit  under  "  the  preach- 
ing of  any  one  man  sufficiently  to  enable  me  to  form 
an  opinion  worthy  of  record.  But  I  will  endeavor  to 
recall  my  impressions  of  some  I  have  been  privileged 
to  hear,  and  perhaps  allude  to  some  of  my  chairmen 
I  have  omitted  in  a  former  chapter. 

The  ministers  I  have  heard  in  Great  Britain  are 
Revs.  Dr.  Guthrie,  of  Edinburgh;  William  Arnot,  of 
24 


386  DR.  GUTHRIE'S  PREACHING. 

Glasgow;  ISTewman  Hall,  of  London;  and  Mr.  Martin 
of  Westminster  Chapel,  London,  on  my  first  visit.  I 
heard  Mr.  Spurgeon  and  Rev.  Dr.  Parker,  on  my 
second  visit.  With  the  exception  of  Mr.  Spurgeon, 
whom  I  heard  only  twice,  I  was  a  frequent  attendant 
on  their  ministrations.  I  heard  occasionally  single 
sermons  from  notable  men.  In  the  United  States  I 
have  heard  Rev.  Dr.  E.  N".  Kirk,  of  Boston;  Rev.  Dr. 
Taylor,  of  New  York;  Rev.  George  Gould,  D.  D., 
of  Worcester;  and  Rev.  D.  O.  Mears,  of  the  Pied- 
mont Church,  Worcester  —  the  latter  church  being 
the  place  of  my  attendance,  when  at  home,  for  the 
past  four  years. 

One  of  the  most  fascinating  preachers  I  ever  heard 
was  Dr.  Guthrie,  of  Edinburgh.  In  1853-55,  1857- 
60,  I  listened  to  him  often.  It  was  difficult  to  get 
into  the  church,  every  inch  of  room  being  occupied 
that  could  be  made  available  either  for  sitting  or 
standing.  The  doctor  kindly  gave  me  a  pass,  and 
my  wife  and  myself  always  found  a  good  seat. 

The  audience  was  composed  of  the  literary,  philo- 
sophical, scientific,  and  intellectual,  with  a  fair  show 
of  the  commonplace ;  for  the  preacher  had  a  marvel- 
lous power  of  adapting  his  discourse  to  the  gratifica- 
tion of  the  intellectual  and  to  the  understanding  of 
the  common  mind.  The  Duke  of  Argyle  was  often 
there,  and  professors  from  the  University.  Truly  the 
rich  and  poor  met  together,  for  Dr.  Guthrie  was  almost 
worshipped  by  many  of  the  denizens  of  the  closes  on 
High  Street,  and  no  wonder;  for,  while  he  rebuked 
the  sins,  he  sympathized  with  the  sorrows  of  poor 
humanity. 

It  is  well  known  that  in  his  earnest  desire  to  ame- 
liorate the  sufferings  of  poor  neglected  children  he 


APPROPRIATE    TEARS.  387 

was  the  founder  of  the  Ragged  School  system.  He 
was  also  instrumental  in  introducing  a  pure  water 
supply  into  Edinburgh,  a  great  boon  to  the  poor  ten- 
ants of  those  lofty  houses  on  High  Street  and  the 
closes  of  the  Lawn  Market  and  Canongate.  It  must 
be  often  distressing  to  find  those  you  seek  to  benefit 
utterly  oblivious  of  their  advantages.  It  is  related 
that  having  asked  a  woman  how  she  liked  the  water 
introduced  into  the  city,  she  said :  "  Aye,  not  so  well 
as  I  might;  it's  not  like  the  water  we  had  before,  it 
neither  smells  nor  tastes." 

His  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was  very  striking; 
and  his  manner  was  indescribable.  I  have  seen  him 
stand,  bending  over  the  pulpit  cushion,  with  his  hands 
stretched  out  toward  the  people,  and  heard  him  talk 
with  such  amazing  power,  combined  with  such  sweet- 
ness, as  drew  all  hearts  towards  him.  I  have  never 
liked  to  see  a  preacher  cry  in  the  pulpit,  but  tears 
filling  Dr.  Guthrie's  eyes  seemed  to  be  so  appropriate 
that  at  certain  passages  you  would  feel  they  were 
necessary  to  the  full  eifect  of  his  utterances. 

After  the  preliminary  exercises,  which  were  very 
solemn  and  tender,  the  people  seemed  to  settle  down 
to  listen,  and  then  he  would  take  his  text.  The  first 
time  I  heard  him  he  said,  when  the  audience  was  still : 
"  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf."  Then  there  was  a  pause 
amid  the  breathless  silence  of  the  congregation.  See 
him  with  his  noble  forehead;  those  magnificent  eyes, 
as  he  tenderly  looks  over  that  great  assemblage,  his 
heart  overflowing  with  tender  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion for  those  who  were  travelling  to  that  "bourn 
from  which  no  traveller  returns ! "  Then  with  that 
wonderful  voice  he  repeats,  with  a  deeper  pathos  and 
a  stronger  Scotch  accent,  "  We  all  do  fade  as  a  leaf." 
Then  he  told  us  where  to  find  his  text. 


388  "AND  THEN  —  IT  STOPS." 

The  first  words  of  his  sermon  were:  "And  the 
earth  helped  the  woman."  I  was  wondering  what 
connection  he  could  make  with  that  and  his  selected 
theme.  It  was  to  show  that  the  Bible  used  every- 
thing in  nature  as  an  illustration  —  the  "  lily  of  the 
valley,"  the  "  grass  of  the  field,"  and  the  falling  leaf; 
and  then  he  went  on,  and  on,  with  that  magnificent 
voice,  sometimes  like  "  a  thunder  psalm  among  the 
hills,"  then  like  the  sigh  of  the  wind  among  the 
autumn  trees;  again  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet, 
then  like  the  Eolian  harp;  again  sharp,  staccato,  and 
then  seeming  to  struggle  through  a  "  mist  of  unshed 
tears."  Your  eyes  would  fill  in  spite  of  yourself  by 
the  power  of  his  pathos. 

One  sentence  he  uttered  that  strangely  moved  me, 
not  by  what  he  said,  but  by  his  method  of  saying  it. 
The  sentence  might  have  been  written  and  spoken  by 
a  schoolboy,  but  uttered  as  he  uttered  it  only  by  a 
genius.  He  had  been  speaking  of  the  great  law  that 
prohibits  this  wonderful  combination  of  the  machinery 
of  the  human  system  working  .on  forever.  Then 
pausing  a  moment,  and  with  his  finger  pointing  down- 
ward, he  said,  "  No,  it  goes  slower,  and  slower,  and 
slower,  —  and  then  —  it  STOPS,"  his  voice  growing 
deeper  in  tone  at  every  pause,  till  at  the  word  stops 
it  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  deeper  and  more  musical  bass 
than  I  ever  heard  from  the  highest  artist.  It  seemed 
as  if  I  felt  "  the  skin  lift  from  the  scalp  to  the  ankles, 
and  every  hair  stand  up  and  shiver,"  not  by  what  he 
said,  but  by  his  power  in  saying  it. 

I  always  hoped  he  might  visit  this  country;  but  it 
was  not  so  to  be.  One  of  the  delightful  reminiscences 
of  my  first  visit  to  Britain  was  the  acquaintance  and 
friendship  I  was  permitted  to  enjoy  with  Dr.  Guthrie. 


FIGS   OF   THISTLES.  389 

His  admirable  biography  has  been  published;  so  I 
have  given  only  a  few  of  my  own  impressions  of  him. 
He  presided  several  times  at  my  meetings,  and  I 
remember  how  amused  he  was  when  the  secretary 
said,  "The  Rev.  Dr.  Guthrie,  author  of  the  'Sins  and 
Sorrows  of  the  City,'  will  preside;  and  Professor 
Miller,  author  of  'Alcohol/  will  preside  to-morrow 


evening." 


Another  of  the  Scotch  preachers  was  Rev.  Wm. 
Arnot,  whose  biography  has  been  published  in  this 
country.  He  entertained  us  for  some  days  in  Glas- 
gow, and  called  upon  us  when  he  visited  London.  He 
was  very  different,  in  almost  every  respect,  from  Dr. 
Guthrie,  yet  not  one  whit  below  him  in  his  influence 
and  power.  He  appealed  to  the  intellect  rather  than 
to  the  feelings,  and  yet  at  times  he  was  very  tender 
in  his  appeals.  His  appearance  I  need  not  describe; 
he  has  been  seen  often  in  the  pulpits  and  on  the  plat- 
forms of  this  country.  His  manner  in  the  pulpit  was 
rather  heavy  and  somewhat  unwieldy.  I  know  I  had 
a  sensation  of  uneasiness  when  I  first  heard  him. 
His  motions  were  not  graceful,  his  gestures  were 
awkward,  his  pronunciation  rather  broadly  provin- 
cial. He  distressed  me  at  first  by  the  jerking  of  the 
elbow,  the  shrugging  of  the  shoulders,  the  hesitation 
in  his  utterance. 

His  text  was,  "  Figs  of  thistles."  I  was  held  fast, 
though  the  enjoyment  was  marred  by  his  strange  mo- 
tions, and  I  said  to  my  wife  as  we  came  out  of  the 
church,  "  That  was  a  grand  sermon ;  but  I  wish  he 
had  kept  still,  and  had  not  jerked  his  elbows  so 
strangely."  But  as  to  the  effect  of  that  sermon  I  can 
truly  say  that  for  months  after  I  heard  it  I  turned  in 
no  direction  but  right  before  me  seemed  to  be  the 


390  LINCOLN   TOWER. 

words  "Figs  of  thistles."  Did  I  purpose  entering 
into  my  engagements  or  making  any  plans,  "  Figs  of 
thistles."  He  had  the  power,  in  spite  of  his  peculi- 
arities, to  drive  the  truth  into  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  those  who  heard  him.  He  was  one  of 
the  men  I  learned  to  love,  and  that  with  no  effort  on 
my  own  part. 

When  in  London,  we  heard  Rev.  Newman  Hall 
and  Rev.  Mr.  Martin.  Of  Mr.  Hall  I  say  but  little; 
he  has  been  heard  extensively  in  this  country.  On 
hearing  him  preach  one  is  impressed  with  a  conscious- 
ness of  his  sincerity  and  large-heartedness.  In  his 
appeals  you  feel  that  he  is  in  earnest,  meaning  what 
he  says;  and  yet  withal  there  is  the  beautiful  sim- 
plicity that  has  made  his  immortal  work,  "  Come  to 
Jesus,"  so  full  of  interest  to  thousands.  I  was  his 
guest  when  he  was  a  pastor  in  Hull,  before  he  came 
to  London.  I  heard  him  often  in  "  Surrey  Chapel," 
and  on  the  last  Sabbath  spent  in  London  in  1879 
it  was  my  privilege  to  speak  in  his  new  "  Christ 
Church,"  for  the  tower  of  which  he  gathered  funds  in 
this  country.  It  is  a  beautiful  edifice,  and  "  Lincoln 
Tower  "  is  worthy  of  the  noble  name  it  bears. 

Rev.  Mr.  Martin  of  Westminster  Chapel,  at  the  time 
I  heard  him,  had  become  a  power  in  the  pulpit.  We 
were  fortunate  in  obtaining  a  seat,  which  we  occu- 
pied, when  in  London,  for  two  years.  This  chapel 
was  built  amid  many  disagreeable  surroundings  in 
Westminster,  —  a  very  disreputable  neighborhood,  the 
sights  and  sounds  in  the  vicinity  repulsive;  yet  in 
spite  of  all  this  the  chapel  was  crowded.  The  locality 
is  gradually  changing  for  the  better.  Mr.  Martin  was 
very  solemn  and  devout  in  the  pulpit,  yet  with  an 
exceeding  swreet  expression.  At  first  he  seemed  cold 


REV.    SAMUEL   MARTIN".  391 

and  rather  commonplace;  but  that  was  only  in  the 
introduction.  As  he  unfolded  his  subject  he  fired  up, 
and  with  flashing  eye  he  warned  his  auditors  of  the 
consequences  of  sin,  of  the  realities  of  the  world  to 
come;  using  the  plainest  terms,  and  but  few  illustra- 
tions, either  hard  logic  or  facts ;  but  with  tenderness 
and  earnestness  winning  his  way  to  the  hearts  of 
those  who  heard,  till  they  were  convinced  of  his 
strong  desire  to  bring  them  to  the  truth.  Occasion- 
ally he  would  select  the  strangest  texts,  and  you 
would  feel  disappointed,  in  view  of  the  conviction 
in  your  own  mind  that  nothing  could  be  made  of 
such  a  passage.  Once  he  took  the  passionate  cry 
of  Job,  "Am  I  a  sea  or  a  whale?"  and  from  that 
preached  a  most  impressive  sermon  on  God's  care 
for  us,  even  in  discipline.  He  was  a  fine  reader, 
and  one  morning  I  heard  him  read  that  very  difficult 
Psalm,  the  hundred  and  thirty-sixth,  of  twenty-eight 
verses,  each  verse  ending  with,  "  For  His  mercy  en- 
dureth  forever." ,  There  was  no  monotony  in  his 
reading,  but  rather  a  sweet  monotone  of  musical 
cadence  that  was  fascinating. 

As  a  writer  has  said,  "A  man  of  one  book  is  always 
a  formidable  foe ; "  and  Mr.  Martin  was  emphatically 
a  man  of  one  book.  He  sought  for  no  notoriety; 
was  seldom  heard  out  of  his  own  pulpit;  his  only  aim 
appearing  to  be,  and  was,  to  make  men  feel  that  the 
Bible  is  true,  and  to  induce  them  to  shape  their  lives 
by  its  precepts.  I  spoke  twice  in  his  chapel,  and  on 
my  last  visit  to  London  missed  him  as  one  would  miss 
an  old  friend,  remembering  with  gratitude  the  few 
interviews  I  had  with  him,  and  thankful  that  I  knew 
and  loved  Samuel  Martin.  Kitchie  says  Mr.  Martin 


392  HOtf.   JOHN  BRIGHT. 

might  have  sat  for  the  portrait  of  Cowper's  model 
preacher. 

"  Simple,  grave,  sincere. 
In  doctrine  uncorrupt ;  in  language  plain, 
And  plain  in  manner ;  decent,  solemn,  chaste, 
And  natural  in  gesture ;  much  impressed 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge; 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too;  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  man." 

These  four  preachers  I  heard  and  knew  on  my  first 
and  second  visit  to  Great  Britain.  "When  I  returned, 
they  were  all  gone  but  Rev.  Newman  Hall. 

I  recall  some  of  my  chairmen  of  those  days,  among 
whom  was  Lord  Shaftesbury,  who  presided  on  sev- 
eral occasions,  who  still  is  a  power  for  good  in  Eng- 
land, one  of  the  true  nobility,  a  noble  Christian  gen- 
tleman, whose  kindness  to  me  I  shall  never  forget. 
He  was  not  a  fluent  speaker,  but  his  presence  was 
mightier  than  speech,  since  all  recognized  in  him  a 
self-denying  servant  of  the  Master. 

Another  of  my  chairmen,  on  three  occasions,  was 
John  Bright,  almost  as  well  known  in  this  country  as 
in  England.  I  heard  him  speak  for  nearly  an  hour  at 
Brymbo,  in  Wales.  We  were  the  guests  of  William 
Henry  Darby,  of  Brymbo  Hall,  and  during  our  stay, 
Mr.  Bright,  with  quite  a  large  and  very  pleasant 
party,  was  with  us  for  nearly  a  week. 

Mr.  Darby  gave  a  feast  to  the  workers  in  the  ex- 
tensive mines  and  iron-works,  at  which  gathering 
several  speeches  were  made.  Mr.  Bright  spoke  on 
the  question  of  "labor  and  capital,"  showing  how 
necessary  the  one  is  for  the  other,  and  how  suicidal 
to  create  division  between  them,  or  to  bring  them  into 


LORD   CHIEF   BAROtf.  393 

mutual  antagonism.  The  speech  was  incisive  and 
clear  as  crystal;  no  redundance  of  words,  but  each 
word  necessary  and  appropriate.  It  is  now  twenty- 
six  years  since  I  heard  that  speech,  yet  there  remains 
a  very  vivid  recollection  of  its  power.  Often  have  I 
wished  I  could  hear  him  again,  but  the  opportunity 
has  never  been  given. 

Another  of  my  chairmen,  claiming  more  than  a 
passing  notice,  was  Sir  Fitzroy  Kelly,  now  Lord 
Chief  Baron  of  England.  When  holding  the  office 
of  Her  Majesty's  Attorney-General,  Sir  Fitzroy  en- 
tertained me  as  his  guest  at  his  beautiful  seat,  the 
"  Chantreys,"  near  Ipswich,  and  presided  at  my  meet- 
ings on  two  occasions.  He  has  a  very  fine  counte- 
nance expressive  of  deep,  earnest  energy.  There  was 
a  wonderful  power  in  his  delivery.  He  stood  per- 
fectly still,  no  gesture,  the  thumb  of  his  right  hand 
in  his  waistcoat-pocket,  and  he  simply  talked.  I 
could  have  listened  to  him  for  hours.  His  fine  voice 
was  like  the  rippling  of  water  on  the  bed  of  some 
pebbly  brook;  and  then  suddenly  changing  his  tone, 
without  moving  from  his  position,  his  words  came 
with  deep  emphasis.  He  was  a  great  Chancery  lawyer. 
He  is  a  man  of  iron  energy,  and  is  by  nature  and 
character  keen,  watchful,  and  wary.  His  demeanor 
is  marked  by  great  gravity  and  dignity.  As  a  host 
he  was  genial,  understanding  thoroughly  and  prac- 
tising the  most  graceful  method  for  the  ease  and  com- 
fort of  his  guests.  I  have  always  felt  grateful  to  him 
for  his  kindness  to  me  twenty-five  years  ago. 

One  of  his  guests,  when  I  was  at  the  Chantreys, 
asked  him  how  long  he  had  ever  spoken  at  one  time. 
The  reply  w'as,  "  I  once  spoke  eight  hours  in  a  case 
before  the  Lords.  Their  Lordships  agreed  to  hear 


394:  DR.   JOSEPH  PARKER. 

the  case  argued  that  day,  provided  it  could  be  done 
at  one  sitting;  so  I  continued  for  eight  hours,  and 
nothing  passed  my  lips  during  that  argument  but  the 
juice  of  two  oranges." 

Rev.  Joseph  Parker,  D.D.,  is  a  most  remarkable 
man,  and  a  preacher  of  great  power.  I  heard  him 
often,  and  always  with  great  delight  and  profit.  So 
many  and  varied  have  been  the  opinions  of  Dr.  Par- 
ker, that  I  am  induced  to  record  my  impressions  as  to 
his  power.  I  am  not  qualified  to  review  him  critically, 
nor  shall  I  claim  to  analyze  his  methods  scientifi- 
cally. 

I  have  heard  the  remark,  "  Dr.  Parker  is  an  ego- 
tist." "What  man  conscious  of  great  power,  with  an 
influence  sufficient  to  establish  and  maintain  a  church 
so  complete  in  all  its  appointments,  and  with  the 
ability  to  keep  an  audience  week  after  week,  and  year 
after  year,  filling  the  spacious  edifice,  with  no  diminu- 
tion but  rather  an  increase,  till  the  place  is  becoming 
too  strait  for  the  accommodation  of  the  crowds  eager 
to  listen;  sustaining  a  Thursday  noon  lecture,  attended 
by  thoughtful  men  who  crave  and  can  only  be  satisfied 
with  strong  meat,  and  being  able  to  meet  the  demands 
of  the  intellectual  throngs  who  attend  his  ministry;  I 
ask,  what  man  conscious  of  all  this,  must  not  neces- 
sarily be  self-confident,  or  rather  self-reliant,  and  that 
not  offensively?  There  are  some  men  so  painfully 
conscious  of  their  defects,  shortcomings,  and  failings, 
as  not  to  realize  and  be  thankful  for  the  gifts  God  has 
given  them,  but  are  so  excessively  humble  that  their 
superfluity  of  humility  is  as  painful  to  witness  as  the 
egotism  of  another. 

Dr.  Parker  never  enters  the  pulpit  with  an  apolo- 
getic air,  as  if  he  would  say,  "  I  come  to  tell  you  what 


FORMS   OF   EGOTISM.  395 

I  think,  diffidently  to  give  you  the  result  of  my  guess- 
ings,  and  to  submit  with  deference  the  result  of  my 
studies,  in  all  humility,  to  the  test  of  your  superior 
judgment;"  but  he  appears  as  "one  having  author- 
ity;" as  if  he  would  say  to  his  people,  "I  come  to 
instruct,  to  tell  what  I  know,  and  what  I  have  attained 
by  close  study.  I  have  given  to  this  subject  my  best 
thoughts;  and,  by  hard  searching,  have  obtained  the 
best  thoughts  of  the  wisest  men.  Having  condensed 
all  this  into  the  compass  of  a  half-hour's  discourse,  I 
invite  your  closest  attention,  that  you  may  be  wiser 
at  the  close  of  my  sermon  than  when  you  entered  this 
house." 

For  my  part,  I  prefer  the  teacher  who  will  lay  his 
hand  on  me  with  an  authority,  and  say,  "Listen  to 
me  and  you  will  be  a  wiser  man,"  to  the  other  who  ap- 
proaches me  with  a  humility  that  will  lessen  my  con- 
fidence in  his  ability  to  instruct.  I  believe  an  affecta- 
tion of  humility  is  one  of  the  most  offensive  forms  of 
egotism,  and  Dr.  Parker  will  never  sin  in  that  direc- 
tion. 

~No  one  who  has  seen  Dr.  Parker  in  his  home  would 
judge  him  to  be  an  egotist.  One  day's  charming  visit 
at  his  house  can  never  be  forgotten.  No  restraint  was 
laid  upon  us  in  the  society  of  himself  and  wife  in  their 
genial  and  hospitable  home.  They  gave  us  a  most 
cordial  greeting.  It  would  hardly  suit  the  ideas  of 
some  persons  if  I  should  say  that  Dr.  Parker  was 
childlike  —  I  do  not  mean  childish.  It  was  simplicity 
with  dignity,  no  assumption  of  superiority;  he  was 
not  there  the  teacher,  but  the  friend,  manifesting  a 
deference  to  others'  opinions  that  surprised  me.  I 
have  known  some  men,  supposed  to  be  great  men, 
who  seemed  to  be  seeking  an  opportunity  to  exhibit 


396  AET   ORIGINAL   PREACHER. 

their  ability  by  drawing  you  out  just  far  enough  to 
afford  them  the  chance  of  humbling  you.  I  have 
been,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  so  contradicted, 
snubbed,  put  down,  by  some  self-important,  imperious 
egotist,  that  I  have  lost  respect  for  my  tormentor, 
and  indulged  in  a  little  retaliation  as  my  defence. 

"With  Dr.  Parker,  at  his  own  house,  there  was  not 
the  slightest  assumption  of  superiority,  although  he 
knew  that  in  intellect  he  was  a  giant  in  comparison. 
During  the  course  of  conversation  I  remarked,  "  You 
exhibit  many  striking  peculiarities  in  your  pulpit  de- 
livery." He  said,  "  I  should  not  be  Joseph  Parker  if 
I  did  not,  but  (laying  his  hand  on  my  shoulder)  come 
here,  my  dear  fellow,  and  tell  me  of  my  peculiarities;" 
and  we  sat  together,  and  talked  for  a  long  time  with 
perfect  freedom. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Dr.  Parker  as  a  preacher?" 
I  have  heard  no  preacher  like  him.  He  is  different 
from  all  others;  he  has  marked  out  a  path  for  himself; 
he  is  an  original.  I  cannot  compare  him  with  other 
great  pulpit  orators,  since  I  have  not  heard  them 
sufficiently  to  institute  such  a  comparison.  I  have 
walked  twice  on  the  Sabbath  from  Piccadilly  to  Hoi- 
born  Yiaduct,  a  distance  of  two  miles  each  way,  and 
been  amply  repaid  for  my  eight  miles'  walk. 

Let  me  give  my  impressions  on  hearing  him  for  the 
first  time.  He  was  not  an  entire  stranger  to  me,  as 
he  had  very  kindly  taken  the  pains  to  call  at  my 
"  Hillside  "  home  with  his  wife,  when  they  were  in 
this  country  some  years  since,  and  I  have  always  been 
grateful  to  him  for  the  trouble  he  took  to  see  us  in  the 
midst  of  many  pressing  engagements  in  all  direc- 
tions. When  he  rose  in  the  pulpit  he  stood  motion- 
less, his  face  almost  rigid  as  marble — no  expression, 


PECULIAR   rUI.riT   MANNERS.  397 

—  reminding  one  of  the  "silent  oracle."  His  first 
words  revealed  a  magnificent  voice.  The  reading  of 
the  hymn  convinced  you  that  he  had  studied  elocu- 
tion. The  impressive  manner  in  which  he  uttered  the 
sentence,  "  Let  us  worship  God,"  showed  his  perfect 
control  over  every  intonation;  and  the  reading  of  the 
Scriptures  manifested  his  knowledge  of  the  power  of 
appropriate  emphasis.  The  prayer  was  beyond  and 
above  criticism.  God  was  the  Father,  ready  to  be- 
stow: man  was  the  needy  one;  Christ  was  the  medi- 
ator, through  whom  all  petitions  must  be  offered,  and 
all  blessings  must  flow.  The  phraseology  of  the 
prayer  was  to  me  rather  unusual,  but  so  perfectly  in- 
telligent and  appropriate  that  the  heart  responded  to 
every  utterance. 

In  the  beginning  of  his  discourse  I  was  disturbed 
and  annoyed  by  his  manner,  entirely  new  to  me  — 
thoroughly  different  from  anything  I  had  ever  seen; 
but  I  soon  forgot  his  manner  in  the  intense  interest 
awakened  by  the  sermon.  I  will  not  attempt  a  de- 
scription, except  to  say  that  he  introduced  that  scene 
where  the  servant  of  Elisha  in  his  trouble  said,  "Alas, 
my  master,  how  shall  we  do?"  And  the  prophet 
answered,  "  Fear  not,  for  they  that  be  with  us  are 
more  than  they  that  be  against  us.  And  Elisha 
prayed  that  the  servant's  eyes  should  be  opened,  and 
he  saw,  and  behold  the  mountains  were  full  of  chariots 
of  fire  round  about  Elisha."  His  description  was  so 
vivid  and  took  such  hold  of  me,  that  on  the  next 
evening,  while  speaking  to  a  large  audience,  I  felt 
compelled  to  use  it.  I  told  the  people  that  having 
heard  Dr.  Parker  the  day  before,  he  had  so  revealed 
to  me  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  event,  that  I 
could  find  no  better  illustration  of  the  faithfulness  of 


398  POWERFUL    SENTENCES. 

God  to  his  people,  and  the  certainty  of  His  unseen 
protection  in  the  midst  of  enemies  when  we  are  en- 
gaged in  His  work. 

Dr.  Parker's  utterances  of  sentences  occasionally 
are  wonderful  in  their  power,  often  startling  and  very 
impressive,  producing  a  permanent  effect  on  the  mind. 
I  heard  him  once  describe  hell  according  to  the  bib- 
lical description.  "  The  worm  that  dieth  not,  the  fire 
that  is  not  quenched."  "  I  will  not,"  said  he,  "  abate 
one  word,  or  explain  away  the  awful  meaning  of  the 
'weeping,  and  wailing,  and  gnashing  of  teeth;'  of  the 
f  bottomless  pit,'  for  it  must  be  bottomless  if  the  soul 
is  immortal.  I  will  bring  them  all  before  you,  —  this 
fire,  this  weeping  and  wailing,  this  undying  worm, 
this  bottomless  pit;"  and  then  with  an  indescribable 
gesture,  with  his  finger  pointing  as  if  towards  this 
aggregation  of  horrors,  he  said,  "  There  —  there  is 
God's  testimony  against  sin."  At  another  time  he  was 
speaking  of  sins  of  presumption.  "Deliberate,  wilful 
sin  —  what  is  it?  It  is  a  shut  hand,  a  clenched  fist, 
an  upraised  arm,  the  muscles  to  their  full  tension,  and 
the  object  God  Almighty's  face !  "  A  thrill  passed 
through  that  audience;  there  was  a  deep-drawn  sigh 
audible  in  every  direction;  and  I  must  confess  that 
never  before  had  I  such  an  idea  of  sin,  presump- 
tuous sin  against  God,  as  in  these  two  striking  pas- 


On  one  occasion,  after  repeating  his  text  from  Jere- 
miah vi.  16,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Stand  ye  in  the 
ways  and  see  and  ask  for  the  old  paths,  where  is  the 
good  way,  and  walk  therein,  and  ye  shall  find  rest  to 
your  souls,"  he  said,  "  Would  you  like  to  hear  the  old 
preachers?  Yes.  Once!"  and  that  word  once  was 
uttered  with  an  amazing  power.  Then  he  went  on 


GONE!  GONE!  GOING!  399 

most  fearlessly  to  condemn  the  milk-and-water  preach- 
ing of  half  truths,  &c.  Another  time  he  commenced 
his  discourse  by  asking,  "  Where  did  Jesus  Christ 
get  his  texts?"  when  he  gave  us  a  beautiful  illustra- 
tion of  the  adaptation  of  Christ's  words  to  every 
phase  of  human  character  that  He  addressed. 

Once,  speaking  of  the  bulwarks  that  were  being 
broken  down  in  these  days  of  lax  living  and  lax  doc- 
trine in  the  church,  he  said  of  one  doctrine  after 
another,  "  Gone!  the  Devil,  gone!  and  God — going!" 

~No  one  can  imagine  the  power  and  force  of  the 
utterance  of  the  words  I  have  italicized  but  those 
who  have  heard  him.  As  a  preacher  he  stands  apart 
from  all  other  men.  In  this  country,  he  produced  a 
marked  sensation.  The  more  I  heard  him,  the  more 
I  desired  to  hear  him.  What  I  have  said  has  been 
simply  the  recording  of  my  own  opinions;  for  what- 
ever criticisms  there  may  have  been  of  him  and  his 
preaching,  I  have  never  seen  them. 


CHAPTEK  XXVIII. 

MEN    I    HAVE    KNOWN    (CONTINUED)  .  —  SPURGEON.  — 
AMERICAN   CLERGYMEN. 

C.  H.  Spurgeon:  Early  History  —  His  First  Sermon  —  "Who  is  this 
Spurgeon  ?  "  —  Park  Chapel  and  Exeter  Hall  —  The  Metropolitan  Tab- 
ernacle —  Publication  of  Fifteen  Hundred  Sermons  —  The  Man  a 
Miracle  —  Public  Institutions  for  Missions  and  Benevolence  —  The 
Beautiful  Work  of  Mrs.  Spurgeon  —  Pedigree  of  Pulpit  Story  —  Min- 
isters must  be  "  Thick-Skinned  "  —  Anecdotes  —  Spurgeon  a  Total-  Ab- 
stainer —  Boys'  Orphanage  at  Stockwell  —  Reception  of  Mr.  Spurgeon 
—  The  Little  Consumptive  —  True  Greatness  —  Som-ces  of  Power  as  a 
Preacher  —  The  Book  of  Books  —  Comments  on  Proverbs  —  Tale- 
Bearers  and  Dissemblers  —  Mr.  Spurgeon  and  the  Dog  —  Edward 
Norris  Kirk,  D.D.  —  Oratory  and  Elocution  —  Our  Last  Interview  — 
Elocution  sometimes  a  Hindrance  —  George  H.  Gould.  D.D.  —  Rev. 
David  O.  Mears  —  William  M.  Taylor,  D.D.  —  Power  with  the  Script- 
ures —  Helpful  Themes  —  Theodore  L.  Cuyler,  D.D.  —  Preacher  and 
Correspondent. 


of  the  most  remarkable  men  I  have 
been  privileged  to  know  is  C.  H.  Spur- 
geon. His  has  been  a  career  thus  far 
unparalleled  in  the  history  of  minis- 
ters. His  educational  advantages  were 
very  limited:  four  years  in  a  common 
school  in  Colchester,  and  a  few  months 
at  an  agricultural  college  at  Maidstone. 
After  he  had  begun  to  preach  he  was 
strongly  advised  to  enter  Stepney  College,  to  prepare 
more  fully  for  the  ministry;  and  an  appointment  was 

400 


THE   FIRST    SERMOX.  401 

made  to  meet  Dr.  Angus,  the  tutor.  Mr.  Spurgeon 
went  to  the  place  appointed,  —  that  of  Macmillan,  the 
publisher,  —  and  after  waiting  in  a  room  for  two 
hours,  rang  the  bell,  and  asked  the  reason  of  the  de- 
lay. The  servant  informed  him  that  the  Doctor  had 
waited  in  another  room  till  he  was  tired,  and  had  gone 
away.  Thus  ended  all  efforts  for  a  classical  educa- 
tion. 

His  first  sermon  was  preached  under  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances. In  1851  he  was  asked  to  walk  with  a 
young  man,  whom  Ije  supposed  to  be  the  preacher,  to 
a  village  four  miles  away.  While  on  his  way,  the 
young  man  expressed  the  hope  that  God  would  bless 
him  in  his  labor. 

"  Oh,  dear,"  said  he,  "  I  never  preached  in  my  life ; 
I  never  thought  of  doing  such  a  thing.  I  was  asked 
to  walk  with  you,  and  I  sincerely  hope  you  will  be 
blessed  in  your  labor." 

"  Nay,  but  I  never  preached,  and  I  don't  know  that 
I  could  do  anything  of  the  sort." 

So  they  walked  on,  as  he  says,  his  soul  all  in  a 
trouble  as  to  what  would  happen.  But  when  they 
found  the  congregation  assembled,  and  no  one  there 
to  preach  —  though  he  was  but  sixteen  years  old  —  he 
did  preach  from  the  text,  "  Unto  you  that  believe,  He 
is  precious."  A  gentleman  who  heard  him  then,  says, 
"  he  wore  a  round  jacket  and  turn-down  collar." 

He  continued  to  preach  after  that,  constantly,  and 
was  settled  over  the  little  church  at  Waterbeach,  on 
a  very  meagre  salary.  One  of  the  deacons  of  Park 
Street  church,  Southwark,  in  which  Dr.  Rippon  had 
preached  for  sixty-three  years,  heard  Mr.  Spurgeon 
deliver  an  address  at  a  Sunday-school  anniversary, 
and  such  was  the  effect  produced  that  he  soon  after 
25 


402  METROPOLITAN   TABERNACLE. 

received  a  call  to  Park  Street  church.  His  first  ser- 
mon was  preached  to  about  two  hundred  people  in  a 
church  with  sittings  for  twelve  hundred.  Before  three 
months,  the  question  in  London  was  —  and  I  remem- 
ber it  well  in  1854  —  "  Who  is  this  Spurgeon?  " 

In  one  year  Park  chapel  was  enlarged,  during 
which  time  he  preached  in  Exeter  Hall.  It  was  in 
this  hall  that  I  first  heard  of  him  as  a  young  man 
drawing  immense  audiences.  He  had  secured  the  ear 
and  attention  of  the  people.  In  1856  Park  chapel 
was  entirely  inadequate  to  receive  the  crowds  who 
flocked  to  him,  and  the  Royal  Surrey  Gardens'  Music 
Hall  was  engaged.  Here  he  preached  to  ten  or  twelve 
thousand  persons  every  Sunday  morning,  until  his 
present  spacious  edifice  was  finished. 

The  "  Metropolitan  Tabernacle "  was  formally 
opened  in  March,  1861.  It  seats  five  thousand  five 
hundred  persons,  with  standing  room  for  a  thousand 
more.  When  the  church  removed  from  Park  chapel, 
it  consisted  of  eleven  hundred  and  seventy-eight 
members.  In  1877  the  membership  was  five  thou- 
sand one  hundred  and  fifty-two.  The  immense  amount 
of  work  performed  by  this  one  man  is  astonishing. 
He  has  published  fifteen  hundred  sermons  in  volumes, 
and  more  than  a  hundred  singly.  He  has  also  pub- 
lished a  commentary  upon  the  Psalms  in  five  volumes, 
called  the  "  Treasury  of  David."  In  addition  to  these 
he  has  issued  sixteen  other  works,  besides  compiling 
a  hymn-book,  conducting  a  monthly  magazine,  and 
writing  prefaces  and  introductions  to  scores  of  other 
men's  works. 

People  say,  "Ah,  he  is  not  an  educated  man." 
Speaking  to  a  lady  of  title  about  him,  she  said,  "  But 
is  he  not  quite  vulgar?  " 


VAUIOUS   INSTITUTIONS.  403 

Let  the  experience  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  de- 
monstrate! Let  the  list  of  his  works  determine!  No 
man  of  education  has  done  more  for  the  extension  of 
the  kingdom  of  Christ  by  the  publication  of  valuable 
and  instructive  books  than  he;  and  the  uniform  tes- 
timony of  the  press  confirms  the  high  excellence  of 
his  writings.  In  short,  he  is  —  and  I  told  him  so  —  a 
miracle  to  me. 

I  should  fill  a  volume  were  I  to  speak  of  his  Pas- 
tors' College,  his  Orphanage  for  Boys,  where  he  has 
two  hundred  and  forty;  and  an  orphanage  just  opened 
for  girls;  his  Colportage  Association;  his  Tabernacle 
alms-houses ;  then  the  institutions  connected  with  the 
Tabernacle;  the  Building-fund  to  help  poor  churches 
to  build;  a  German  mission,  supporting  two  mission- 
aries; a  mission  to  the  Jews;  missions  in  Golden 
Lane,  Richmond  Street,  Green  Walk,  James'  Grove; 
a  blind  mission,  a  mother's  mission,  a  Baptist  country 
mission;  Evangelists'  Association;  the  Loan  Tract 
Society;  General  Loan  Tract  Society;  the  Rock  Loan 
Tract  Society;  the  Ordinance  Poor-fund;  the  Ladies' 
Benevolent  Society;  Home  and  Foreign  Missionary 
"Working  Society,  —  all  at  work,  and  all  alive. 

Then  I  must  not  forget  the  beautiful  work  of  Mrs. 
Spurgeon,  who  has  been  an  invalid  for  years ;  but  who 
in  her  weakness  and  pain  has  instituted  and  carried 
out  a  plan  for  providing  destitute  ministers  with 
books,  and  occasionally  with  money. 

Mr.  Spurgeon  has  had  a  reputation  for  eccentricity 
fastened  upon  him,  in  common  with  many  other  popu- 
lar preachers.  As  he  says,  "Throw  mud  enough, 
and  some  of  it  will  be  sure  to  stick."  It  is  interesting 
to  trace  the  pedigree  of  a  pulpit  story,  though  it  is 
not  often  possible  to  discover  its  actual  parent;  like 


404  UNTRUTHFUL   STORIES. 

Topsy,  they  may  say,  "  I  growed."  He  says,  "  These 
same  anecdotes  occur  from  age  to  age,  but  they  are 
tucked  on  to  different  men.  Liars  ought  to  have  good 
memories,  that  they  may  recollect  that  they  have 
already  assigned  a  story  to  some  one  else." 

I  once  asked  him  in  reference  to  several  tales  I  had 
heard  of  him,  whether  they  were  true  —  whether  he 

ever   said,  on   entering  the  pulpit,  "  It's  d d  hot 

this  morning."  He  said,  "  Never,  never ; "  and  yet 
some  time  after  I  heard  a  clergyman  relate  this  story, 
and  when  I  told  him  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  denial  of  it, 
he  said,  "  My  friend  heard  him  say  it,  and  I  believe 
my  friend."  He  was  once  represented  as  sliding  down 
the  balustrades  of  his  pulpit!  and  he  says  he  never 
gave  even  the  remotest  occasion  for  the  falsehood,  and 
yet  he  hears  of  persons  who  were  present  when  he  did 
it,  and  saw  him  perform  the  silly  trick.  Mr.  Spurgeon 
says  "  that  a  minister  who  is  much  before  the  people 
has  need  to  be  thick-skinned."  A  literary  gentleman 
sent  me  what  he  called  authentic  stories  of  Mr.  Spur- 
geon. When  I  was  with  him,  I  asked  him  about 
them.  Not  one  of  them  was  true. 

He  is  very  fond  of  a  joke,  and  there  is  a  comical 
twinkling  of  the  eye  when  he  perpetrates  one,  that  is 
irresistible,  reminding  you  of  Sam  "Weller's  winks 
that  always  cause  a  laugh,  though  we  are  utterly 
ignorant  of  the  cause  of  the  winking. 

On  one  occasion  an  artist  had  drawn  a  sketch  of 
him,  and  brought  it  for  his  inspection.  Looking  at 
it,  he  said: 

"  Ah,  this  is  very  well ;  but  women  and  fools  are, 
they  say,  the  best  judges  of  these  things,  so  I  must 
hunt  up  somebody." 

Just  then  up  came  one  of  Mr.  Spurgeon's  deacons. 


A  TROUBLESOME  CUSTOMER.         405 

"Ah,  brother,  you  are  just  in  time;  what  do  you 
think  of  this  sketch  of  me?" 

Another  artist  wished  to  make  an  engraving  of 
him. 

"  I  hope,"  said  Mr.  Spurgeon,  "  you  will  not  make 
it  an  expensive  one ;  the  public  would  not  give  more 
than  twopence  for  me.  A  friend  of  mine,  to  do  me 
honor,  published  a  photograph  of  me  at  eighteen 
pence,  and  he  lost  a  lot  of  money  by  it." 

I  think  these  anecdotes  show  that  he  is  one  of  the 
most  natural  of  men,  with  no  false  pride  or  starch 
about  him.  He  says  just  what  he  thinks  in  the  most 
natural  and  homely  manner.  He  is  a  troublesome 
customer  to  pompous  people  who  fancy  themselves 
somebodies,  when  they  are  nothing  of  the  kind. 

The  strangest  stories  have  been  in  circulation  with 
regard  to  his  drinking.  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  say, 
that  I  know  he  is  at  present,  and  has  been  for  some 
time,  a  total  abstainer;  and  that  when  he  took  stimu- 
lants, it  was  by  his  physician's  prescription.  When 
he  took  it  he  made  no  secret  of  his  course,  but  freely 
spoke  of  it  wherever  he  might  be. 

Personally,  he  is  fascinating.  He  may  not  be  called 
prepossessing;  there  is  nothing  finical  about  him,  not 
the  shadow  of  a  sham.  Some  one  has  said,  "  his  face 
is  heavy,"  but  when  illuminated  by  a  smile,  it  is  beau- 
tiful. His  first  greeting  captured  me.  I  think  the 
few  hours  spent  with  him  were  as  delightful  and 
profitable  as  any  in  my  life.  He  is  full  of  genial 
humor.  His  laugh  is  infectious.  Yet  with  all  his 
wit  and  fun,  with  the  keenest  faculty  of  seeing  the 
ludicrous  side  of  things,  there  is  no  unbecoming 
levity.  It  would  not  shock  you  if  after  a  hearty 


406  REQUIREMENTS  FOR  ADMISSION". 


laugh    he   should    say,    "Let    us   have   a  word   of 
prayer." 

I  would  like  to  give  you  one  incident  to  illustrate 
the  man  in  his  greatness  and  simplicity.  He  wished 
me  to  visit  his  Boys'  Orphanage,  at  Stockwell.  I  could 
go  only  on  Saturday,  and  his  note  to  me  was  charac- 
teristic. 

"  Beloved  friend:  Although  I  never  go  out  on  Saturdays,  my  horses 
being  under  the  law  and  not  under  grace,  keep  the  seventh  day  Sabbath, 
yet  we  will  arrange  to  visit,"  etc. 

A  beautiful  day  it  was  for  London  as  we  rode  to- 
gether, chatting  all  the  way.  The  history  of  the 
Orphanage  is  intensely  interesting.  The  commence- 
ment was  a  sum  of  ^£20,000  to  Mr.  Spurgeon,  from  a 
lady,  to  commence  an  orphanage  for  fatherless  boys. 
All  the  money  that  has  been  expended  has  been  raised 
by  voluntary  contribution,  and  the  £20,000  is  invested 
as  an  endowment.  When  we  entered  the  grounds,  the 
boys  set  up  a  shout  of  joy  at  the  sight  of  their  bene- 
factor. 

I  asked,  "What  are  the  requirements  for  admis- 
sion? " 

He  said,  "Utter  destitution.  Nothing  denomina- 
tional. We  have  more  of  the  church  of  England  than 
of  the  Baptists.  We  have  Roman  Catholics,  Presby- 
terians, Methodists — all  sorts." 

After  the  boys  had  gone  through  their  gymnastic 
exercises  and  military  drill,  I  spoke  a  few  words  to 
them.  Mr.  Spurgeon  was  like  a  great  boy  among 
boys. 

He  said,  "  There  are  two  hundred  and  forty  boys 
—  only  think!  How  many  pence  are  there  in  a  shil- 
ling?" 

"  Twelve." 


A  PEITNT   APIECE.  407 

"Right.    How  many  shillings  in  a  pound?" 

"  Twenty." 

"  Right.     Twelve  times  twenty,  how  many?  " 

"  Two  hundred  and  forty." 

"  That's  a  penny  a  piece  for  each  boy." 

"  Here,  Mr.  Charlesworth,"  handing  him  a  sovereign, 
"  give  these  boys  a  penny  apiece ; "  when  a  shrill 
hearty  hurrah  was  given,  as  Mr.  Spurgeon  turned 
away  with  a  laugh  of  keen  enjoyment. 

"Will  you  go  to  the  infirmary?  We  have  an  in- 
firmary and  quarantine ;  for  sometimes  the  poor  creat- 
ures we  take  in  need  a  good  deal  of  purifying.  We 
have  one  boy  very  ill  with  consumption ;  he  cannot  live, 
and  I  wish  to  see  him,  for  he  would  be  disappointed 
if  he  knew  I  had  been  here  and  had  not  seen  him." 

We  went  into  the  cool  and  sweet  chamber,  and 
there  lay  the  boy.  He  was  very  much  excited  when 
he  saw  Mr.  Spurgeon.  The  great  preacher  sat  by  his 
side,  and  I  cannot  describe  the  scene.  Holding  the 
boy's  hand  in  his,  he  said: 

"  Well,  my  dear,  you  have  some  precious  promises 
in  sight  all  around  the  room.  Now,  dear,  you  are 
going  to  die,  and  you  are  very  tired  lying  here,  and 
soon  you  will  be  free  from  all  pain,  and  you  will 
rest.  Nurse,  did  he  rest  last  night?  " 

"  He  coughed  very  much." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  boy,  it  seems  very  hard  for  you  to 
lie  here  all  day  in  pain,  and  cough  all  night.  Do  you 
love  Jesus?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Jesus  loves  you.  He  bought  you  with  His  pre- 
cious blood,  and  He  knows  what  is  best  for  you.  It 
seems  hard  for  you  to  lie  here  and  listen  to  the  shouts 
of  the  healthy  boys  outside  at  play.  But  soon  Jesus 


408          "WOULD  YOU  LIKE  A  CANARY?" 

will  take  you  home,  and  then  He  will  tell  you  the 
reason,  and  you  will  be  so  glad." 

Then,  laying  his  hand  on  the  boy,  without  the  for- 
mality of  kneeling,  he  said,  "  O  Jesus,  Master,  this 
dear  child  is  reaching  out  his  thin  hand  to  find  thine. 
Touch  him,  dear  Saviour,  with  thy  loving,  warm  clasp. 
Lift  him  as  he  passes  the  cold  river,  that  his  feet  be 
not  chilled  by  the  water  of  death;  take  him  home  in 
thine  own  good  time.  Comfort  and  cherish  him  till 
that  good  time  comes.  Show  him  thyself  as  he  lies 
here,  and  let  him  see  thee  and  know  thee  more  and 
more  as  his  loving  Saviour." 

After  a  moment's  pause  he  said,  "Now,  dear,  is 
there  anything  you  would  like?  Would  you  like  a 
little  canary  in  a  cage  to  hear  him  sing  in  the  morn- 
ing? Nurse,  see  that  he  has  a  canary  to-morrow 
morning.  Good-bye,  my  dear;  you  will  see  the  Sav- 
iour perhaps  before  I  shall." 

I  had  seen  Mr.  Spurgeon  holding  by  his  power 
sixty-five  hundred  persons  in  a  breathless  interest;  I 
knew  him  as  a  great  man  universally  esteemed  and 
beloved ;  but  as  he  sat  by  the  bedside  of  a  dying  pau- 
per child,  whom  his  beneficence  had  rescued,  he  was 
to  me  a  greater  and  grander  man  than  when  swaying 
the  mighty  multitude  at  his  will. 

I  need  not  describe  Mr.  Spurgeon's  preaching;  very 
few  Americans  visit  London  without  hearing  him. 
So  much  has  been  written  and  published  in  the  United 
States  of  him  and  his  sermons  that  the  people  of  this 
country  are  familiar  with  him  as  one  of  our  own  peo- 
ple. I  am  most  impressed  with  the  simplicity,  free- 
dom, fearlessness,  earnestness,  and  naturalness  of  his 
preaching.  He  has  more  heart  than  eloquence,  and 
illustrates  the  truth  of  his  own  words  "  eloquence  of 


WORLDLY  WISDOM.  411 

the  most  lofty  kind  is  mere  sound  unless  there  be  love 
in  the  speaker's  heart  to  give  weight  to  his  words  — 
better  to  have  a  loving  heart  than  to  speak  twenty 
languages." 

He  has  a  powerful,  rich,  and  melodious  voice  under 
perfect  control.  Twelve  thousand  people  have  heard 
him  distinctly  in  the  open  air,  and  twenty  thousand  in 
the  Crystal  Palace.  He  does  not  aim  to  be  a  great 
preacher,  but  is  a  man  of  wonderful  attraction  and 
marvellous  power. 

The  first  time  I  heard  him  he  preached  from  the 
passage,  "Who  forgiveth  all  thine  iniquities."  The 
sermon  was  remarkable  for  directness,  simplicity,  and 
earnestness.  "When  he  quoted  the  passage,  "  As  far 
as  the  east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath  He  removed 
our  transgressions  from  us,"  he  said,  "  How  glorious 
is  this  statement!  If  it  had  been  as  far  as  the  South 
is  from  the  !N"orth  it  would  have  been  an  immense  dis- 
tance; but  no,  it  is  as  far  as  the  East  is  from  the  West, 
an  immeasurable  distance."  From  the  first  sentence 
to  the  last  he  held  the  attention  and  left  an  impression 
not  easily  effaced.  I  think  I  never  met  a  man  who 
seemed  more  in  this  world  and  less  of  it.  He  feels 
that  his  work  is  among  men,  and  while  his  associa- 
tions here  are  with  the  earth,  yet  his  conversation,  his 
citizenship  is  in  Heaven. 

His  various  institutions  show  his  worldly  wisdom 
in  all  their  managements;  and  in  their  inception  and 
maintenance  they  manifest  in  truth  the  wisdom  that 
coineth  down  from  above  —  that  "  layeth  up  treasure 
where  neither  moth  nor  rust  can  corrupt,  and  where 
thieves  cannot  break  through  nor  steal."  I  regret 
not  having  heard  more  of  his  pulpit  ministrations; 
but  among  my  library  treasures  are  the  twenty-four 


412  TREASURY   OF   DAVID. 

choice  volumes  of  his  sermons,  all  the  more  prized 
because  personally  given  by  him.  We  have  his  "  Trea- 
sury of  David,"  and  use  at  our  family  devotions  his 
"  Interpreter."  We  enjoy  and  profit  by  his  comments 
on  the  passages  selected  for  reading.  They  may  not 
be  profound,  but  they  are  simple  and  enlightening. 
The  children  may  understand  them,  the  language 
often  of  every-day  life,  bringing  the  Bible  near  us  as 
the  book  to  be  read  and  understood  and  believed,  — 
not  to  be  read  once  or  twice  a  day  in  a  constrained 
tone  and  with  ceremony,  but  a  book  for  every  day,  — 
a  book  not  given  to  bewilder,  but  to  comfort  and  in- 
struct, yet  withal  a  book  so  deep  and  profound  that 
the  highest  intellects  on  earth  find  it  worthy  of  their 
earnest  study,  while  the  "wayfaring  man  though  a 
fool  need  not  err  therein." 

Many  of  his  comments  are  pithy,  striking,  quaint, 
and  full  of  marrow  and  instruction.  Take  the  com- 
ments on  Proverbs  xxvi.  17-28.  I  read  this  the 
other  evening  at  family  worship,  and  was  so  pleased 
with  his  running  comments  that  I  cannot  refrain 
from  inserting  here  a  few  specimens : 

20th  verse.  "Where  no  wood  is,  there  the  fire  goeth  out;  so  where 
there  is  no  tale-bearer  the  strife  ceaseth."  His  comment  is:  "Do  not 
talk  about  it  and  it  will  die  out.  No  hurt  ever  comes  from  holding  our 
tongues ;  silly  tattling  causes  much  sorrow.  If  we  will  not  reply,  those 
who  slander  us  will  tire  of  their  dirty  work,  or  will  be  powerless  for  mis- 
chief. Evil  speaking  seldom  injures  those  who  take  no  notice  of  it.  Do 
not  find  fagots  for  your  own  burning.  Let  the  tale-bearers  alone,  and 
their  fire  will  go  out  for  want  of  fuel." 

21st  verse.  "  As  coals  are  to  burning  coals,  and  wood  to  fire,  so  is  a 
contentious  man  to  kindle  strife."  His  comment  is:  "  Wherever  he  is, 
quai-relling  begins,  or  being  already  commenced,  it  is  fanned  to  a  fiercer 
flame.  He  is  a  stoker  for  Satan's  fires.  Let  us  never  grow  like  him." 

24tf7i  verse.  "  He  that  hateth  dissembleth  with  his  lips,  and  layeth  up 
deceit  within  him."  His  comment  is:  "He  is  brooding  mischief,  and 
storing  up  revenge,  yet  he  speaks  fairly.  He  hangs  out  the  sign  of  the 
angel,  but  the  devil  keeps  his  house." 


THE  NEIGHBOR'S  DOG.  413 

25th  verse.  "  When  he  speaketh  fair,  believe  him  not :  for  there  are 
seven  abominations  in  his  heart."  His  comment  is :  "  All  kinds  of  evils 
lurk  in  a  dissembler's  soul.  The  man's  heart  is  a  hell,  full  of  evil  spirits, 
the  forge  of  Satan,  the  workshop  of  all  mischief.  Whenever  any  one 
flatters  us  let  us  fly  from  him  at  once,  and  avoid  him  for  the  future.  He 
would  not  spin  so  fine  a  web  if  he  did  not  wish  to  catch  a  fly." 

28th  verse.  "A  lying  tongue  hateth  those  that  are  afflicted  by  it;  and 
a  flattering  mouth  worketh  ruin."  His  comment  is :  "  It  is  the  nature  of 
ill-will  to  hate  those  whom  it  injures.  Hurt  another,  and  you  will  dis- 
like him,  benefit  him  and  you  will  love  him.  Above  all  things  abhor 
flattery,  for  he  who  uses  this  detestable  art  is  surely  plotting  your  over- 
throw. Young  people  should  learn  this  lesson  early,  or  their  ignorance 
may  cost  them  dear." 

His  illustrations  are  very  simple,  principally  drawn 
from  real  human  life,  or  incidents  that  are  constantly 
occurring,  or  in  experiences  to  which  all  are  liable. 
I  give  one  on  "  Trust,"  how  impossible  to  scorn  or 
turn  away  from  any  that  trust  you.  He  describes  a 
garden  in  which  he  took  great  delight;  but  a  neigh- 
bor's dog  would  occasionally  burst  through  the  hedge 
that  separated  the  grounds  and  do  no  small  damage 
at  such  times.  He  was  thoroughly  vexed  as  one  day, 
while  he  was  enjoying  the  garden  after  planting  some 
fresh  seeds  in  one  bed,  and  anticipating  a  fine  crop  of 
flowers  in  the  other,  this  dog  bounded  through  the 
hedge  and  tore  over  the  newly-seeded  beds  to  their 
great  damage.  He  was  quite  angry  at  this,  and  seiz- 
ing a  stick,  hurled  it  at  the  animal.  The  dog  stopped, 
looked  at  Mr.  Spurgeon,  and,  wagging  his  tail,  picked 
up  the  stick  in  his  mouth,  and  trotting  up  to  him,  laid 
it  at  his  feet,  and  looking  in  his  face  pushed  his  nose 
in  his  hand.  "  Now,"  said  Mr.  Spurgeon,  "  could  I 
punish  that  dog,  or  drive  him  out  of  my  garden? 
No ;  I  patted  him,  and  said,  '  Good  dog,  come  into 
my  garden  when  you  will,'  because  he  trusted  me." 

I  have  spoken  of  Mr.  Spurgeon  at  length,  for  "  take 
him  for  all  in  all,  we  ne'er  shall  look  upon  his  like 


414  REV.   E.   N.   KIRK,   D.D. 

again,"  and  I  rejoice  in  the  privilege  of  such  a  friend- 
ship. In  a  recent  letter  to  me  he  says :  "  May  the 
Lord  ever  bless  and  keep  you  and  yours,  and  may  the 
divine  appointment  arrange  us  somewhere  near  each 
other  in  the  land  where  sinners  washed  in  blood  be- 
hold the  face  of  the  Well-beloved.  Yours  very  heart- 
ily and  gratefully,  C.  H.  Spurgeon." 

When  a  boy,  I  had  heard  Dr.  Nathan  Bangs,  Dr. 
Durbin,  Rev.  Wilbur  Fisk,  President  of  Middletown 
College,  Bishop  Waugh,  and  other  celebrated  preach- 
ers of  the  Methodist  church,  forty-five  years  ago,  and 
to  this  day  I  have  clear  recollections  of  their  style, 
appearance,  and  mode  of  preaching.  But  the  preacher 
who  first  interested  me  in  my  early  manhood  was  Dr. 
E.  N".  Kirk,  of  Boston,  with  whose  church  I  united 
in  1845,.  and  on  whose  roll  of  membership  the  names 
of  my  wife  and  myself  are  still  left.  Though  we 
reside  so  far  away  that  we  can  hardly  be  numbered 
with  the  congregation,  we  hold  the  most  friendly  rela- 
tions to  the  present  pastor,  Rev.  Dr.  Herrick. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  speak  of  Dr.  Kirk  as  a 
preacher,  since  his  biographer,  in  his  admirable  "  Life 
of  Edward  Morris  Kirk,  D.D.,"  has  given  an  analysis 
of  his  power  as  a  minister,  which  is  complete  and  ex- 
haustive, supplemented  by  the  testimonies  of  others, 
prominent  among  which  is  a  sketch  by  Leonard 
Bacon,  D.D.  This  chapter,  the  15th,  is  exceedingly 
interesting.  I  could  not  add  one  word  to  it.  It  was 
written  by  one  who  was  his  intimate  friend,  who  knew 
him  well,  and  whose  ability  to  portray  the  great 
preacher,  and  present  to  us  a  vivid  picture  of  the 
popular  pulpit  orator,  is  manifest  on  every  page. 

To  me  Dr.  Kirk  was  a  loving  friend  and  faithful 
pastor.  In  my  darkest  experience,  in  the  sickness 


"JOHN,   COME   NEAR  ME."  415 

nigh  unto  death  that  prostrated  me,  he  stood  by,  full 
of  purest  sympathy,  unfolding  to  me  the  words  of 
Christ.  For  many  seasons  he  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  Hillside.  On  such  occasions  we  often  arranged 
his  writing-desk  on  the  piazza,  that  he  might  prepare 
his  sermons  amid  the  singing  of  birds  and  the  odor 
of  flowers,  with  the  hills  and  woods  in  the  distance. 

He  was  a  natural  speaker,  having  little  or  no  need 
of  elocutionary  training;  still  he  had  almost  a  passion 
for  oratory  and  elocution.  He  often  encouraged  young 
men  in  their  studies  in  that  direction.  The  last  time 
I  ever  saw  him  was  when,  at  his  invitation,  I  went  to 
his  house  to  hear  a  young  man  read.  He  sat  in  his 
chair,  hardly  able  to  distinguish  objects  in  the  room, 
and  listened  intently  to  the  young  man's  reading,  and 
then  asked  if  I  could  not  encourage  him  by  giving 
him  a  favorable  opinion  of  his  powers. 

When  the  young  man  had  departed,  he  said,  "Now, 
John,  come  near  me,  that  I  may  see  you  better.  How 
are  you?  How  is  your  soul's  health?  Is  Jesus  pre- 
cious? Oh,  as  this  world  grows  dim,  and  I  strain  my 
poor  eyes  to  discover  objects,  how  bright  and  glorious 
is  the  New  Jerusalem,  where  the  Lamb  is  the  light 
thereof."  He  gave  me  his  benediction,  and  I  saw  him 
no  more,  but  his  last  words  to  me  were  very  pre- 
cious. 

I  spoke  of  his  interest  in  elocution.  I  think  his 
study  of  that  art  was  a  hindrance  rather  than  a  help ; 
it  modified  his  naturalness,  and  gave  him  what  ap- 
peared a  somewhat  stilted  manner,  and  diminished 
that  "  abandon  "  which  was  always  such  a  power.  In 
proportion  as  he  followed  closely  the  rules  of  oratory 
or  elocution,  did  he  fail  in  effectiveness ;  —  at  least, 
this  was  my  opinion.  I  remember  that,  on  more  than 


416  ORATORY   VS.    ELOCUTION". 

one  occasion,  while  listening  with  interest, — impressed 
perhaps  more  by  the  beauty  of  his  diction,  his  grace 
of  gesture,  and  studied  intonations,  than  by  the  sub- 
ject, —  he  would  suddenly  lift  up  his  face,  and  in  the 
forgetfulness  of  all  rules  would  for  a  few  minutes 
pour  out  his  soul  in  pleading,  or  in  rapt  inspiration 
tell  of  the  glories  of  Christ.  Losing  sight  of  himself, 
he  became  absorbed  in  his  theme.  He  appeared  as 
God's  messenger  to  dying  men,  and  the  full  power  of 
the  truth  took  possession  of  every  heart.  His  natural 
oratory  seemed  to  me  as  much  preferable  to  his  studied 
elocution,  as  the  natural  waterfall  is  to  the  artificial 
cascade.  But  if  this  was  a  blemish,  it  was  only  one 
that  was  simply  a  foil  to  his  marvellous  excellences. 
He  did  a  great  work,  and  has  gone  home  to  his 
reward,  with  many  stars  in  the  crown  of  his  re- 
joicing. 

In  1856,  I  first  met  Kev.  George  H.  Gould,  D.  D., 
and  was  fascinated  by  his  preaching.  He  is  emo- 
tional, with  no  sensationalism;  he  speaks  with  an 
earnestness  that  convinces  you  he  believes  all  he 
utters,  with  a  deep  pathos  revealing  the  tenderness  of 
his  own  nature,  an  eloquence  perfectly  natural,  a  face 
radiant  at  times  when  he  utters  some  lofty  thought. 
He  has  no  monotonous  repetitions;  there  is  nothing 
stale  or  conventional  in  his  preaching.  He  reaches 
the  intellect  and  the  heart,  and  were  it  not  for  his 
health  he  would  have  been  one  of  the  widely-known 
popular  preachers  of  the  day. 

Rev.  D.  O.  Mears,  of  Worcester,  who  is  my  home 
pastor,  is  a  man  who  strikes  right  out  boldly  and  fear- 
lessly at  sin  in  all  its  forms.  Affectionate  and  genial 
in  his  nature,  he  is  a  stern  rebuker  of  evil.  He  tells 
the  truth  with  plainness;  he  is  profitable  to  hear;  he 


HELPED   AND    COMFORTED.  417 

preaches  as  a  man  to  men ;  he  shows  that  Christianity 
is  for  the  counting-house  as  well  as  for  the  prayer- 
meeting,  for  the  week-day  as  well  as  for  the  Sabbath, 
for  the  world  as  well  as  for  the  church.  He  wrote  the 
biography  of  Dr.  E.  N".  Kirk,  a  work  which  has  been 
very  favorably  received. 

I  could  speak  largely  of  Rev.  Wm.  M.  Taylor,  D.D., 
of  'New  York,  but  he  is  extensively  known  by  his 
public  ministrations,  and  by  his  published  works,  so 
that  nothing  remains  but  to  give  a  few  personal  im- 
pressions. I  have  often  timed  my  visit  to  New  York, 
that  I  might  spend  the  Sabbath  there,  and  hear  him 
preach.  No  man  ever  opened  up  the  Scriptures  to 
me  as  he  does.  By  the  emphasis  of  a  word,  he  reveals 
to  you  the  deep,  true  meaning  of  the  passage.  His 
sermons  are  adapted  to  the  wants  of  humanity;  the 
human  soul  craves  sympathy,  the  human  heart  needs 
help  and  comfort  and  encouragement  to  be  lifted,  to 
be  led  upwards  toward  the  divine.  I  have  been  tried 
and  tempted,  or  troubled  and  oppressed,  by  unex- 
pected cares ;  I  am  disappointed ;  I  have  been  in  dark- 
ness all  the  week,  yet  groping  for  light;  I  have  human 
wants,  desires,  hopes,  fears.  I  cry  out  for  help,  hu- 
man help.  I  go  to  church.  Of  what  value  to  me  is 
a  discourse  on  heroism,  patriotism,  the  Jews,  or  the 
Catholics,  at  such  a  time?  Merely  husks  to  a  hungry 
man.  Whenever  I  go  to  the  Tabernacle,  I  am  helped 
and  comforted.  The  prayer  is  from  a  human  soul 
experienced  in  the  trials  and  temptations  of  human 
life.  I  am  led  in  the  devotional  exercises  out  of  my 
own  dreary  thoughts  to  the  throne  of  the  heavenly 
grace,  into  the  presence-chamber  of  the  King,  to  talk 
with  Him  who  is  my  surety,  and  thus  I  am  in  a 
measure  prepared  for  the  sermon,  which  is  often  a 


418  AN   ATTRACTIVE    PREACHER. 

feast  of  fat  things  to  my  soul,  in  which  there  is  a  por- 
tion for  every  one  in  due  season.  As  a  friend  who 
has  counselled  me  wisely  for  years,  and  as  a  minister 
of  Christ  who  has  helped  me  so  essentially  in  my 
Christian  life  and  experience,  I  reverence  and  love 
him,  and  to  me  he  is  above  all  criticism.  The  remem- 
brance of  my  indebtedness  to  him  will  never  fade. 
His  numerous  published  works  are  a  valuable  addition 
to  any  library. 

Dr.  Theodore  L.  Cuyler  is  an  attractive  preacher. 
I  have  known  him  for  thirty-six  years.  In  1844  I  first 
met  him,  at  Princeton,  when  he  was  a  theological  stu- 
dent. I  visited  him  in  his  first  manse  at  Burlington, 
then  many  times  in  Trenton,  afterwards  in  IsTew  York, 
when  he  was  at  the  Market  Street  church,  and  since 
his  settlement  in  the  Lafayette  Street  church,  Brook- 
lyn. Though  for  years  I  have  known  him  intimately, 
I  have  seldom  heard  him  preach. 

There  are  some  ministers  who  commence  their  ser- 
mons in  so  striking  a  manner  as  to  give  promise  of 
an  intellectual  and  effective  discourse.  It  is  disap- 
pointing to  find  that  in  the  first  few  sentences  you 
have  heard  the  best  of  the  sermon  —  all  there  is  of  it 
worth  remembering;  for  the  preacher  soon  begins  to 
drift  out  into  a  sea  of  platitudes,  and  the  conclusion 
becomes  so  lame  and  impotent  that  the  effect  is  dis- 
couraging and  unprofitable.  Others  begin  in  a  puny 
style,  and  reach  the  height  of  their  discourse  about 
midway,  and  then  descend  to  the  puny  style  of  the 
beginning,  reminding  you  of  the 

"  King  of  France  with  twenty  thousand  men 
Marched  up  the  hill  and  then  marched  down  again." 

Dr.  Cuyler  secures  the  attention  of  the  people  at 


STRIKING   EXORDIUM.  419 

first,  starting,  perhaps  by  a  stirring  illustration,  or  the 
relation  of  some  fact  or  an  allusion  to  some  current 
event;  but  he  holds  his  congregation  to  the  end;  and 
the  conclusion  only  serves  to  impress  on  the  heart 
and  memory  the  truths  he  has  uttered,  and  the  pero- 
ration is  often  more  striking  than  the  exordium.  I 
once  heard  him  preach  on  Charity,  when  he  began 
thus :  "  There  was  a  mob  at  Jerusalem ; "  and  after 
very  graphically  describing  the  martyrdom  of  Stephen, 
the  dragging  him  out  of  the  city,  the  stoning,  until 
you  almost  saw  the  whole  tragedy,  he  spoke  of  the 
bruised,  broken  body;  and  then  most  impressively 
said,  "  Hear  him,  t  Lord  lay  not  this  sin  to  their 
charge.'  That's  charity!"  Then  he  gave  a  forcible 
exposition  of  the  power  and  beauty  of  charity,  rivet- 
ing the  attention  of  the  audience  to  the  last  word 
of  the  discourse. 

Dr.  Cuyler  is  better  known  to  me  personally  as  a 
correspondent  than  as  a  preacher.  I  have  read  many 
of  Horace  AValpole's  letters,  all  of  Cowper's  that  are 
published,  a  large  proportion  of  Charles  Lamb's,  but 
in  my  opinion,  Dr.  Cuyler's  letters,  of  which  I  have  a 
large  package,  are  superior  to  them  all.  If  selections 
from  his  correspondence  with  different  individuals  for 
the  last  thirty-five  years  were  published,  they  would 
constitute  one  of  the  most  readable  books  of  the  sea- 
son. I  often  read  passages  from  his  letters  to  my 
friends,  who  always  listen  with  delight.  One  I  have 
nearly  memorized  by  frequent  perusal,  written  to  me 
from  his  dismantled  study  in  Trenton  —  the  last  letter 
he  wrote  in  it;  in  which,  calling  up  the  precious  mem- 
ories connected  with  the  place  he  was  leaving  for- 
ever, he  paints  a  charming  picture  of  the  faces  of  the 
dear  friends  who  had  been  his  guests,  and  with  whom 
26 


420  FAITHFUL   AND   TRUE. 

he  had  held  sweet  converse.  From  1844  till  now  he 
has  been  my  faithful  friend,  through  evil  as  well  as 
good  report,  in  storm  and  sunshine,  always  loyal 
and  true,  and  never  failing  in  his  fearless  defence 
of  the  right.  I  hold  him  in  my  heart  as  a  brother 
beloved. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

OLD-TIME   AND   MODERN   PREACHERS.  —  WORDS  WITH 
AND   WITHOUT   SENSE. 

Sheridan  Knowles  —  Varied  Pulpit  Ministrations  —  Old-time  Discourses 

—  Quaint  old  Books  —  Travesty  on  the  Little  Busy  Bee  —  The  Pla- 
giarized Sermon  —  Sermon  on  the  Slothful  Man  —  "  Awake  Pesaltery- 
tree  and  Harp"  —  "Who  were  the    Patriarchs?"  —  Grandiloquent 
Oratory  —  Exordium  upon  Intemperance  —  "  Wrecked  on  the  Tem- 
pestuous Sea"  —  The  baneful  Upas-Tree  —  The  Drunkard's   Career 
on  the  Broad  Road  —  Peroration  —  The  Nobleman's  Speech  and  Ob- 
servations —  Speech  of  an  Agitator  —  "  Bruce  the  King  of  England  " 

—  "  Battles  of  Greasy  and  Potters  "  —  "  Pass  round  the  Hat." 

.HERIDAK  KNOWLES  has  been  de- 
scribed as  "a  shrewd,  sharp-looking 
old  gentleman,  who  takes  a  text  but 
remotely  connected  with  his  discourse. 
JL  You  listen  with  great  interest  at  first. 
The  speaker  is  apparently  very  argu- 
mentative, and  nods  his  head  at  the 
conclusion  of  each  sentence  in  a  most 
decided  manner,  as  if  to  intimate  very  con- 
siderably the  best  of  the  argument.  Now  this  is  all 
very  well  for  five  minutes,  or  even  ten ;  but  lasting  an 
hour  —  with  no  heads  for  you  to  remember  —  you 
naturally  grow  very  weary.  His  sermons  are  bundles 
of  little  bits  of  arguments,  tied  up  together  as  a  heap 
of  old  sticks,  and  just  as  dry.  He  was  but  a  very 
moderate  preacher." 

How  faithful  a  portrait  of  some  of  the  preachers  at 
this  day,  let  some  of  the  sufferers  testify.     I  have 

421 


422         LONG  AND  SHOUT  SERMONS. 

occasionally  heard  from  pulpits  a  string  of  common- 
places and  bald  truisms  with  no  application.  I  have 
heard  sermons,  dry,  without  one  word  of  help  or 
comfort,  without  one  particle  of  spiritual  food  to  allay 
the  heart-hunger,  with  no  suggestive  thoughts;  bar- 
ren of  ideas,  as  a  dead  stick  is  barren  of  leaves;  and 
I  have  felt  if  I  heard  no  preaching  but  that,  my  life 
would  become  a  dull,  dreary  monotony,  never  rising 
above  the  plodding  existence  so  utterly  earthly.  I 
have  heard  sermons  from  men  entirely  oblivious  of 
grammar,  who  never  studied  the  construction  of  a 
sentence,  who  were  only  learned  in  Bible  lore,  who 
had  been  taught  in  the  school  of  Christ,  that  were  as 
marrow  to  my  soul;  for  it  was  a  presentation  of  the 
simple  gospel  from  one  who  had  experienced  the  re- 
sults of  its  application. 

After  all,  no  one  can  please  everybody.  Some 
require  learning  and  polish,  a  classic  finish,  lofty, 
stately,  majestic;  others,  again,  fancy  piquancy,  pa- 
thos; others  prefer  solemnity,  grandeur,  splendor, 
clear  and  commanding,  or  fire,  fervor,  passion,  unc- 
tion; while  others  again  require  the  deep,  profound, 
massive,  logical  style. 

I  suppose  in  the  old  times  those  who  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  hearing  their  divines  preach  two,  three,  and 
four  hours,  would  not  be  content  with  a  sermon  of 
twenty  or  thirty  minutes.  Bishop  Hall,  with  the 
eighty  heads  to  his  discourse;  Baxter,  with  his  one 
hundred  and  twenty;  Mr.  Lyle,  with  his  thirty  par- 
ticulars for  fixing  his  theme  on  a  right  basis,  and 
fifty-six  more  to  illustrate  it;  and  Mr.  Drake,  with 
one  hundred  and  seventy  parts  to  a  sermon,  in  which 
he  says  he  has  passed  over  many  very  useful  points, 
pitching  only  on  those  which  comprehended  the  mar- 


ABSURD   TITLES.  423 

row  and  substance,  were  all  popular  preachers.  And 
yet  in  these  days  they  would  preach  to  empty  pews, 
and,  as  Dr.  Beecher  once  said  to  a  very  sparse  con- 
gregation, the  church  would  appear  "  like  a  burnt  dis- 
trict." 

Many  of  those  old  divines  were  very  quaint  and 
witty,  their  sermons  a  treasury  of  good  things ;  while 
there  were  some  whose  quaintness  and  oddity  led 
them  into  absurdities.  A  list  of  the  titles  of  books 
and  tracts  circulated  in  the  time  of  Cromwell  we 
should  consider  ridiculous.  I  give  a  brief  selection: 

"  A  Most  Sweet,  Delectable  and  Perfumed  Nose- 
gay for  the  Saints  To  Smell  At." 

"  A  Pair  of  Bellows  to  Blow  off  the  Dirt  cast  on 
James  Fry." 

"  The  Snuffers  of  Divine  Love." 

• 

"  Hooks  and  Eyes  for  Believers'  Breeches." 
"  High-heeled  Shoes  for  Dwarfs  in  Holiness." 
"  Crumbs  of  Comfort  for  the  Chickens  of  the  Cove- 
nant." 

"  A  Sigh  of  Sorrow  for  the  Sinners  of  Zion,  breathed 
out  of  a  hole  in  an  earthen  vessel,  known  among  men 
by  the  name  of  Samuel  Fish." 

With  all  this  absurdity,  the  men  who  wrote  these 
discourses  possessed  power,  but  we  have  occasionally 
the  absurdity  without  the  power.  I  would  not  ridi- 
cule any  attempt  of  any  man  to  do  good  who  was  at 
all  qualified  for  his  work;  but  those  men  who  are 
utterly  unqualified  to  become  teachers  of  the  people, 
and  assume  the  responsibility  of  such  a  position,  are 
fair  subjects  for  criticism. 

I  remember  going  to  church  on  one  occasion,  ex- 
pecting to  hear  a  celebrated  preacher.  To  our  great 
disappointment  we  were  told  that  he  was  unable  to  be 


424  ELOCUTION  FOR  BOYS. 

present,  but  that  a  minister  who  was  in  the  town  on  a 
visit  would  preach.  I  shall  never  forget  my  sensa- 
tions when  this  gentleman  came  into  the  pulpit.  He 
was  very  tall,  his  hair  brushed  straight  up  from  his 
forehead.  He  had  a  very  long  neck,  rather  red  in 
color;  a  pair  of  green  spectacles  with  side  glasses, 
and  a  boil  on  his  nose.  As  he  rose  to  his  almost  in- 
terminable length,  we  could  hardly  repress  a  smile. 
The  text  was,  "For  it  is  appointed  unto  men  once 
to  die."  There  was  not  a  suggestion,  nor  a  thought; 
no  intellectual  stimulus,  but  a  dreary  platitude,  with 
no  more  connection  of  ideas  than  in  the  youth's  essay 
on  "  Elocution."  The  boy  was  told  not  to  be  diffuse, 
but  to  lay  down  his  proposition  fairly,  and  come  to 
the  point  at  once.  He  delivered  himself  of  this  splen- 
did effort :  "  Elocution  is  a  good  thing  for  boys.  Hence 
the  immortality  of  the  soul !  "  But  this  man  was  dif- 
fuse, without  any  points,  as  if  he  had  taken  for  the 
basis  of  his  remarks,  "  How  doth  the  little  busy  bee 
improve  the  shining  hour,"  &c.,  and  treated  it  thus : 

"  My  friends,  the  subject  under  consideration  is  a 
bee.  Not  only  is  it  a  bee,  but  we  are  informed  it  is  a 
busy  bee.  Not  only  is  it  a  busy  bee,  but  it  is  a  little 
busy  bee.  Not  only  is  it  a  little  busy  bee,  but,  my 
friends,  it  is  a  little  busy  bee  that  doth.  Mark,  it  is  a 
bee,  not  a  swarm  of  bees,  of  which  the  poet  writes. 
It  is  a  busy  bee,  not  a  drone  in  the  hive.  It  is  a  little 
busy  bee,  not  a  great  bumble-bee  that  knocks  his  head 
against  the  window.  Then  the  little  busy  bee  doth. 
What  doth  it?  is  an  important  question.  First,  it  im- 
proves. "What  doth  it  improve  —  itself  or  some  other 
person?  It  improves  an  hour.  What  hour?  A  shin- 
ing hour.  What  shining  hour?  moonshine,  or  sun- 
shine, or  starshine,  or  all  hours?  It  cannot  be  all,  for 


BORROWED    SERMON.  425 

we  are  informed  it  is  a  shining  hour;  singular,  not 
plural.  We  must  step  a  little  in  advance  to  settle  the 
question.  Ah,  here  it  is !  i  He  gathers  honey  all  the 
day!  '  Therefore  it  must  be  in  the  sunshine."  And 
so  on,  to  the  end  of  the  verse.  And  then :  "  Hence 
we  perceive."  I  would  as  soon  hear  the  boy's  propo- 
sition and  conclusion. 

I  once  asked  a  minister  who  was  rather  celebrated 
for  his  poetry,  how  he  could  find  time  for  so  much 
rhyme,  and  prepare  two  sermons  each  week  for  his 
people.  "  Oh,"  he  said,  "  my  sermons  don't  trouble 
me ;  I  just  think  of  a  text,  and  then  I  have  my  refer- 
ences, you  know." 

Once,  after  hearing  a  sermon,  I  asked  some  friends 
who  were  with  me,  to  listen  while  I  read  them  some 
portions  of  a  very  interesting  work.  As  I  proceeded, 
some  one  said,  "  We  heard  that  this  morning ;  "  and 
we  found  the  morning  sermon  was  taken  bodily  from 
the  work  I  was  reading. 

I  heard  a  sermon  from  the  text  in  Proverbs,  "I 
went  by  the  field  of  the  slothful,  and  by  the  vineyard 
of  the  man  void  of  understanding; "  and  we  had 
twenty  minutes  of  suppositions :  "  Solomon  might 
have  been  riding  in  his  chariot;  he  might  have  been 
going  to  Gilgal ;  he  might  have  been  in  the  company 
of  his  courtiers ;  he  might  have  been  taking  his  exer- 
cise; he  might  have  been  on  horseback;  "  and  so  on, 
to  an  interminable  and  unprofitable  extent. 

A  gentleman  told  me  of  a  minister  who  boasted 
that  he  never  studied,  but  was  always  led,  who  con- 
stantly quoted :  "  It  shall  be  given  you  in  that  day 
what  ye  shall  say."  He  never  selected  his  text  be- 
forehand, but  always  took  the  first  passage  his  eye 
rested  on  after  he  opened  the  Bible.  On  one  occa- 


426  PESALTERY-TKEE. 

sion,  when  he  opened  the  Book,  his  eye  rested  on  thi 
text :  "  Awake  psaltery  and  harp  !  "  And  he  pro- 
nounced the  p,  and  added  a  couple  of  syllables  to  it, 
and  read: 

"  Awake  pesaltery-tree  and  harp." 

He  had  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  before,  and 
hardly  knew  what  to  make  of  it;  but  there  it  was,  and 
he  put  a  brave  face  on  it,  and  said: 

"  Yes,  my  friends,  it  is  a  pesaltery-tree.  This  was 
a  tree  that  growed  in  the  region  where  David  lived. 
It  had  branches  and  leaves  and  roots.  I  do  not  know 
whether  it  bore  no  fruit,  but  it  was  a  pesaltery-tree. 
Now,  the  circumstances  under  which  this  'ere  text  was 
writ  was  just  this  'ere:  David  was  very  fond  of  laying 
in  bed  in  the  morning,  which  is  a  very  bad  practice, 
my  friends.  And  one  day  he  told  his  man  to  call  him 
up  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  he  called  him; 
and  he  got  up,  and  it  was  a -beautiful  morning;  and 
he  opened  the  winder,  and  there  was  a  pesaltery-tree 
a-growing  outside ;  and  he  got  out  of  that  winder,  and 
sat  on  one  of  the  branches  of  that  'ere  pesaltery-tree ; 
and  while  he  sat  there,  he  told  his  man  to  bring  him 
his  harp;  and  when  he  got  it,  he  played,  'Awake 
pesaltery-tree  and  harp ; '  and  that's  the  origin  of  this 
'ere  text."  Then  came  a  discourse  on  the  advantages 
of  getting  up  early  in  the  morning. 

I  was  introduced  to  a  man  who,  when  he  preached 
and  had  no  ideas,  would  shout  and  roar,  and  use  his 
voice  to  the  utmost  extent  of  its  power.  Once  he  was 
at  a  great  loss  for  ideas,  and  he  shouted  out  with  vio- 
lent gestures :  "  There  were  the  patriarchs ;  yes,  the 
patriarchs,  my  friends.  They  were  the  patriarchs. 
Who  were  the  patriarchs,  I  ask,  who  were  they? 
"Who  were  they  —  these  patriarchs  ?  Again  I  ask, 


ORATIONS  AND  POETRY.  427 

who  were  they?  Why,  my  friends,  Jacob  was  one 
of  them  —  Jacob  was.  Jacob  was  a  patriarch  —  a 
patriarch,  —  and  he  had  twelve  sons ;  and  every  one 
of  these  'ere  sons  was  a  boy,  my  friends ! " 

These  may  be  very  ridiculous  specimens,  and  per- 
haps overdrawn.  I  did  not  originate  them;  I  give 
them  as  they  were  related  to  me. 

I  here  insert  two  specimens  of  oratory,  one  the 
grandiloquent,  the  other  the  effeminate. 

I  have  a  volume  entitled,  "  Orations  and  Poetry  on 
Moral  and  Religious  Subjects,"  printed  and  published 
at  Albany,  with  a  portrait  of  the  author,  from  which 
I  make  some  extracts. 

Here  is  the  exordium  to  the  oration  on  intemper- 
ance: 

"  Man,  ever  since  his  fall  in  the  garden  of  Eden,  has  been  inspired 
with  a  spirit  of  deviation  from  righteousness,  which  often  increases  his 
misery.  His  imaginations  are  only  evil  continually,  —  laying  structures 
of  wretchedness  and  woe;  and  hewing  out  vessels  that  can  hold  no 
water.  Such  is  his  digression  from  the  requirements  of  God,  that  he  is 
a  stranger  to  virtue,  and  lies  buried  in  the  open  field  of  his  pollution. 
But  among  all  his  wicked  inventions,  King  Alcohol  is  the  topmost 
stone." 

Of  the  drunkard,  the  author  says: 

"  The  strong  man  became  palsied,  and  began  to  reel  to  and  fro  under 
the  influence  of  the  scourging  waves.  Their  frail  barks  were  now  toss- 
ing on  the  tempestuous  sea  of  life.  At  last  their  vessels  sprung  a 
leak,  and  foundered  in  liquid  flames. 

"This  is  the  rock  on  which  thousands  split,  and  their  frail  barks 
plunge  into  the  awful  cataract  of  death.  The  losses  by  intemperance  are 
almost  supernumerary,  and  past  the  description  of  man.  .  .  .  The  ele- 
ment in  which  he  moves  is  poisoned  by  his  noxious  breath,  and  he  spreads 
malignant  contagion  wheresoever  he  leaves  his  meandering  vestige." 

Of  the  liquor-seller,  the  author  says : 

"Those  dealers  in  alcohol  will  yet,  for  the  love  of  gold,  sell  to  their 
brethren  the  baneful  Upas-tree,  and  keep  up  the  stool-pigeons  of  mortal 
attraction,  that  they  may  destroy  the  unwary  and  feast  on  the  purchase 
of  their  blood." 


428        GRANDILOQUENT  PERORATION. 

The  drunkard's  career  is  thus  forcibly  described: 

"  The  drunkard's  career  is  on  the  broad  road  to  ruin.  The  stream  in 
which  he  first  embarks  may  appear  small  and  but  little  dangerous ;  yet  it 
empties  into  a  boundless  ocean,  and  conveys  her  votaries  to  the  wailings 
of  the  second  death!  The  intemperate  are  seldom  reclaimed.  Their 
condition  is  almost  hopeless ;  for  when  they  begin  their  voyage,  they  sel- 
dom cease,  until  they  launch  into  the  dark  profundity  obscure,  from 
whence  no  traveller  returns.  Their  consciences  are  seared  with  perfect 
inveteracy ;  they  bid  defiance  to  all  men,  although  admonished  with  deep- 
est commiseration  and  sensitive  gratitude.  They  are  governed  by  an 
enemy  that  knows  of  no  condescension ;  who  is  fettering  them  stronger 
to  that  hold,  which  shall  prove  a  baseless  fabric,  sinking  beneath  her 
builders,  and  leave  them  as  fuel  for  that  flame  of  wrath,  which  survives 
the  dissolution  of  worlds,  and  is  perpetuated  by  the  vengeance  of  an 
angiy  Deity." 

The  peroration  contains  the  following  sentences: 

"  Seed-time  and  harvest  shall  come  and  pass  away.  The  hill  and  the 
valley  shall  smile  with  the  luxuries  of  man.  The  cargoes  of  emporium 
shall  float  on  the  blue  waves,  and  waft  along  the  shores  of  the  sublime 
highlands.  The  bells  of  minarets  and  bastions  shall  chime  the  midnight 
peal.  The  drunken  revelries  shall  increase  the  history  of  death ;  and  the 
baneful  Upas-tree  shall  spread  over  all  lands.  The  retreats  of  pollution, 
where  King  Alcohol  waves  his  banner,  shall  swell  the  dirge  of  woe.  The 
sound  of  the  harp  and  viol  shall  chant  the  passions  of  youth ;  and  the 
chandeliers  of  theatres,  like  terrestrial  suns,  shall  deceive  the  unwary 
traveller.  The  card  and  the  throw  of  the  dice,  where  souls  are  stamped 
for  eternity,  shall  tell  man's  future  history.  The  army  of  inebriates  shall 
increase,  ere  they  plunge  the  Jordan  of  death,  to  wait  the  resurrection 
fires  and  the  direful  woes  of  the  final  judgment.  In  all  these  scenes  of 
pollution,  man  seems  silent,  as  if  at  death  he  closed  his  eyes  in  eternal 
sleep.  But  suddenly  the  voice  of  the  archangel  splits  the  sapphire  vault 
above,  and  comes  trumping  down  the  eternal  avenue  with  a  mighty  clan- 
gor, such  as  the  world  never  knew." 

I  give  the  reported  speech  of  a  nobleman  who  was 
requested  to  offer  a  toast  at  a  dinner  given  for  the 
benefit  of  a  free  hospital.  He  rose  with  the  yearly 
report  of  the  institution  in  his  hand,  and  said: 

"  Gentlemen!  Ahem !  I — I — I  rise  to  say.  That  is  —  I  wish  to  propose 
a  toast.  Gentlemen,  I  think  that  you'll  all  say  —  ahem!  I  think,  at 


"LEND  ME  TOUR  EAJRS."  429 

least,  that  this  toast  is,  as  you'll  say,  the  toast  of  the  evening  —  toast  of 
the  evening.  Gentlemen,  I  belong  to  a  good  many  of  these  things,  and  I 
say,  gentlemen,  that  this  hospital  requires  no  patronage ;  at  least,  you 
don't  want  any  recommendation.  YouVe  only  got  to  be  ill  —  got  to  be 
ill.  Another  thing,  they  are  all  locked  up — I  mean,  they  are  shut  up 
separate  —  that  is,  they've  all  got  separate  beds." 

Then  putting  up  his  eye-glass  and  looking  at  the 
paper,  he  continued: 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  I  find  by  the  report  which  I  hold  in  my  hand,  —  I 
find,  gentlemen,  that  from  the  year  seventeen  —  no,  eighteen,  —  no  — 
ah,  yes  —  I'm  right,  eighteen  hundred  and  fifty  —  no,  it's  a  three  —  thirty- 
six —  eighteen  hundred  and  thirty-six  —  no  less  than  one  hundred  and 
ninety- three  millions  —  no  —  ah !  eh !  What  ?  —  oh  yes !  " 

Some  one  whispered  to  him. 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you !  Yes !  one  hundred  and  ninety-three  thousand 
two  millions,  —  no — two  hundred  and  ninety- three  thousand  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty-one.  Gentlemen,  I  beg  to  propose  '  Success  to  the  In- 
stitution.' " 

Some  thirty  years  ago  a  speech  was  reported  as  de- 
livered by  an  itinerating  orator  to  a  mob  of  rioters 
assembled  in  front  of  a  gentleman's  mansion  in  War- 
wickshire, England,  where  they  had  gathered  for  the 
purpose  of  committing  violence  and  doing  damage, 
in  the  days  of  mob  outrage  and  riot.  I  give  it  as  a 
reported  specimen,  whether  exaggerated  or  not  I  do 
not  know. 

"  Gents,  partisans,  and  much-suffering  hoperatives :  —  I  would  say  to 
you  what  Julius  Czesar  said  to  the  Romans  after  he  had  stabbed  Mark 
Antony  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  at  the  siege  of  Troy  — '  Lend  me  your 
hears.'  This  same  sacred  cause  of  liberty  has  brought  me  'ere.  has 
brought  you  'ere,  has  brought  your  wives  'ere,  has  brought  your  little  tins 
'ere.  Let  us  do  or  die,  as  Robert  Bruce  the  king  of  England  said 
to  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  at  the  battle  of  Bannockburn.  That  battle  was 
fought  for  liberty;  and,  gents,  we  'ave  a  battle  to  fight  too,  against 
the  'eartless  harristocracy.  Gents,  you  are  now  on  the  right  spot. 
The  foe  you  'ate  is  before  you,  as  Tom  Moore  says  in  his  '  Pleasures 
of  'ope.'  Look  at  his  proud  castle  frowning  o'er  —  ahem  —  the  deep 
—  ahem — that  is  —  I  mean  —  frowning  o'er  us  all.  Within  its  walls 
is  titled  hinsolence,  bloated  vealth,  and  hoverbearing  hextravagance. 


430     THE   BATTLES   OF   "GREASY  ANTD   POTTERS." 

Gents,  we  must,  we  shall  be  'eard.  Our  'aughty  tyrants  shall  bite  the 
dust.  They  conquered  us  at  'Astings,  when  the  Black  Prince  invaded 
Hcugland  at  the  Revolution,  and  brought  in  Norman  hinsolence;  but, 
gents,  who  'ave  been  the  hassertors  of  Hengland's  freedom  but  men  of 
our  class?  Who  was  it  forced  King  John  and  his  runagate  barons 
to  give  us  Magna  Charta  but  honest  Jack  Cade?  Who  was  it  shot  a 
harrow  at  King  Richard  —  the  curdy  lion  —  but  Wat  Tyler  the  black- 
smith ?  Who  fought  under  King  Hedward  the  battles  of  Greasy  and 
Potters  but  the  cooks  and  scullions  of  Hengland?  Who  delivered  our 
children  and  wives  from  Crook-backed  Richard,  who  smothered  'elpless 
hinfancy  in  the  Tower,  but  Mr.  Henry  Tudor,  a  gent  from  Wales  —  not 
much  better  than  us?  Who  hindered  the  Pope  from  burning  'Enery  the 
Eighth  and  his  six  wives  for  bigamy,  but  Cardinal  Volsey,  a  butcher? 
Who  was  Holliver  Cromwell  but  a  brewer,  and  did  not  he  cut  off  King 
Charles's  'ead  ven  he  had  pulled  him  by  the  hears  out  of  the  royal  hoak, 
vere  he  vos  a-hiding  the  Magna  Charta  from  the  people?  Vos  not 
Bacon  a  lord,  and  didn't  he  pick  a  gent's  pocket?  Vos  not  Shakspeare 
a  poacher,  and  didn't  he  write  sermons  in  stones?  Vos  not  Burns  an 
Irish  ploughman,  and  didn't  he  write  the  '  Loves  of  the  Hangels '  ? 
Gents,  these  are  facts  from  the  wollum  of  our  country's  'istory.  These 
show  the  degeneracy  of  the  harristocracy.  They  may  stand  on  a  'aughty 
helevation,  and  may  cry  in  the  words  of  '  Omer,  the  Greek  poet,  '  Hodi 
profanum  wulgus  et  hareco,'  which  means,  'The  common  sort  may  go  and 
be  hanged ; ' —  but  we  will  hanswer  them  with  a  line  found  by  Mr.  Layard 
on  the  left  paw  of  the  winged  lion,  during  h;s  recent  exhalations  among 
the  ruins  of  Nincom-something,  in  Abyssinia.  This  line  is  in  the 
Chinese  language,  and  runs  thus,  '  Wox  populi,  wox  Dei?  It  was  written 
by  King  Belshazzar  the  night  his  palace  was  burned  by  Alexander  the 
Great  when  he  was  drunk.  These  words  signify,  '  Down  with  the  Peer- 
age, and  hup  with  the  people ! '  Men  of  Warwick,  I  have  done.  Never 
say  die  till  the  banners  of  Liberty,  Confraternity,  and  Equality  —  cheap 
beef,  bread  for  nothing,  and  beer  for  the  asking,  float  over  your  'appy 
'omes  and  'ouses.  '  Wox  populi,  wox  Dei ! '  The  hat  will  now  go  round 
for  a  collection." 


CHAPTER   XXX. 


CHURCH   SERVICES.  —  IRREVERENCE,   BUFFOONERY, 
AND    CANT. 

Ridiculous  Side  of  Negro  Preaching  —  Absurd  Mistakes  —  The  Planta- 
tion Preacher  —  "  Glad  Tidings  and  Hallelujah  "  —  The  Dirty  Boy  — 
Church  Services  —  Singing  in  Mr.  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle ;  and  in 
Dr.  Parker's  Church  — The  D.  D.'s  Stratagem  —  The  Scotchman's 
Experience  —  "  Don't  sing,  Sir  "  —  Hymns  of  my  Boyhood  —  Muti- 
lated Hymns  —  Irreverence  of  Hymnology  —  Revivalists'  Buifoonery 
—  The  Name  above  every  Name  —  Christian  Irreverence  —  Pious 
Cant  —  More  Puritanism  needed  —  The  Christian  Ideal  and  its  Oppo- 
site —  Possible  Future  Pulpit  Notices. 


SERMON  or  a  lecture  may  contain 
much  that  is  absurd,  and  yet  not  be 
altogether  unprofitable.  Some  of  the 
negro  preaching  has  a  ridiculous  side, 
while  there  are  few  persons  who  might 
not  profit  by  the  lessons  taught.  I 
heard  a  plantation  preacher  some  years 
ago,  who  used  the  most  extravagant  ex- 
pressions, and  mispronounced  and  mis- 
placed his  words,  forcibly  reminding  us  of  the  negro, 
who  said,  when  some  one  threw  a  brick  at  him 
while  preaching,  "  Dat  man  what  frowed  dat  brick  is 
guilty  ob  an  act  ob  moral  turpentine ;  "  or  of  another, 
who  said  of  a  little  girl  who  had  fallen  down  stairs 
and  struck  her  head  violently :  "She  getten  on;  de 

431 


432  "SIX   CALIKER  HOSSES." 

doctor  has  had  her  japanned!  "  A  preacher  has  been 
reported  in  one  of  our  religious  papers  as  reading  the 
line, 

"  God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way," 

as, 

"  God  moves  in  a  mischievous  way ; " 

and, 

"  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  saints," 

instead  of  "  feeble  sense."  Not  a  very  improper 
alteration. 

But  to  the  plantation  preacher.  He  began  by  say- 
ing: 

"  Bredren,  I  shall  take  two  texes,  —  i  Glad  tidings/ 
and  'Hallelujah!'  Soon  he  asked,  "What  is  glad 
tidings,  bredren?  I'll  tell  ye  what  glad  tidings  am. 
Suppose  dar  was  a  king  in  a  chariot,  and  six  caliker 
hosses,  like  wat  dey  hab  in  de  sukkus,  a-prancing  and 
a-tossing  up  dar  heads,  and  de  soldiers  and  ossifers 
marching  by  the  side  ob  de  chariot,  and  dar's  a  little 
boy  standing  on  de  corner  ob  de  street  as  de  perces- 
sion  goes  by.  Dish  'ere  boy  is  ragged  and  dirty;  his 
har  sticking  frough  de  holes  in  his  cap ;  he  ain't  got 
no  shoes,  —  nobody  keers  for  dat  boy ;  he  ain't  got  no 
fader,  no  mudder,  no  aunty;  and  he's  looking  on  to 
see  de  king,  and  de  caliker  hosses,  and  de  ossifers,  and 
de  soldiers ;  —  when  de  king  he  stops  de  chariot,  and 
says  to  one  ob  dem  ossifers,  '  Bring  dat  boy  to  me ! ' 

"  <  Dat  boy  's  all  dirt.' 

"  '  Bring  dat  boy  to  me ! ' 

"  '  But  you'll  ketch  sumfin  off  dat  boy.' 

"  Den  de  king  got  mad,  and  his  face  lifted  up  on 
de  top  of  his  head  like  a  coffee-pot  lid,  and  he  hollered 
as  loud  as  he  could  holler: 

"  '  Bring  dat  boy  to  me ! ' 


"TIME  FOR  DE  SECOND  TEX."  433 

"  Den  de  ossifer  bring  dat  boy,  and  de  king  say : 

"  '  Take  dat  boy  and  git  him  measured  for  some 
clothes,  and  get  him  a  cap,  and  some  shoes,  and  cut 
his  har  and  wash  him,  put  him  in  de  barf,  and  den 
send  him  to  de  school  like  de  white  folks  go.' 

"  Wall,  all  dis  is  done  'cording  to  de  king,  wat  he 
tell  de  ossifer;  and  when  dat  boy  was  clean,  and  his 
har  comb,  and  he  got  de  eddification,  den  dat  king 
come  by  again,  wid  de  caliker  hosses,  and  de  soldiers 
and  de  ossifers,  and  he  says,  '  Where's  dat  boy?  '  and 
dey  bring  de  boy,  and  nobody  knowd  him;  but  de 
king  he  knowd  him,  and  say: 

"  *  My  child,  come  up  into  de  chariot.  I  'dopt  you; 
you  is  my  heir.' 

"Now,  wouldn't  dat  be  glad  tidings  to  dat  boy?  " 

Then  came  the  application:  God's  love  to  sinners, 
cleaning  them,  teaching  them,  and  making  them  heirs 
of  God,  joint-heirs  with  Jesus  Christ,  by  adoption. 
And  when  he  came  to  the  climax,  he  said: 

"  Now,  bredren,  is  de  time  for  de  second  tex,  '  Hal- 
lelujah,' and  ye  may  jess  shout  much  as  ye're  a-mind 
to." 

With  all  the  oddity  of  that  discourse,  I  never  heard 
a  plainer  exhibition  of  gospel  truth,  one  better  adapted 
to  the  comprehension  of  the  hearers  than  this. 

Discussing  ministers  leads  naturally  to  church  ser- 
vices. I  venture  my  opinion.  I  prefer  congregational 
singing  to  selected  choirs,  and  especially  to  quartettes. 
This  may  be  but  a  matter  of  taste,  and  some  persons 
may  say  bad  taste  at  that;  but  still  to  me  there  is 
something  grand  in  the  union  of  a  thousand  voices  in 
a  song  of  praise.  At  Mr.  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle,  in 
London,  there  is  neither  choir  nor  organ;  but  the 
singing  of  six  thousand  persons  is  very  impressive. 


434  THE    CHOIR   DID    WELL. 

At  Dr.  Parker's  church,  in  the  same  city,  there  is  a 
choir  for  occasional  pieces,  and  to  steady  and  lead  the 
singing  of  the  people.  I  think  this  is  all  right;  but 
the  people  should  be  encouraged  to  sing  as  part  of 
divine  worship,  in  which  they  may  profitably  and  de- 
lightfully partake.  Dr.  Chalmers,  preaching  in  a 
fashionable  church,  once  complained  because  no  one 
in  the  congregation  sung  the  praises  of  God  except 
those  who  were  paid  for  it. 

A  celebrated  Scotch  doctor  of  divinity  was  invited 
to  preach  where  no  singing  was  heard  but  by  the 
choir.  He  gave  out  to  be  sung  the  Hundredth 
Psalm : 

"  All  people  that  on  earth  do  dwell, 

Sing  to  the  Lord  with  cheerful  voice ; 
Him  serve  with  mirth,  His  praise  forth  tell, 
Come  ye  before  Him  and  rejoice." 

To  the  doctor's  surprise,  nobody  but  the  choir 
opened  their  lips,  and  when  they  had  concluded  the 
performance,  he  rose,  and  good-humoredly  said :  "  The 
choir  have  done  very  well;  let  the  congregation  and 
me  try  it  next."  And  so  saying,  he  raised  in  fine  style 
the  solemn  tune  of  "  Old  Hundred."  The  result  was 
that  before  the  first  stanza  was  ended,  the  whole  con- 
gregation had  caught  the  enthusiasm  of  their  leader, 
and  sent  up  a  very  shout  of  praise  to  heaven  in  the 
appropriate  words  of  the  psalm;  and  they  found  it  to 
be  so  heart-stirring  an  experience,  when  compared 
with  their  previous  habits  of  being  mere  listeners,  that 
they  never  afterwards  abstained  so  generally  from 
joining  in  the  psalmody. 

A  Scotch  gentleman,  on  a  visit  to  England,  thus 
gives  his  experience :  "  I  was  taken  on  Sunday  by  an 
English  friend  to  one  of  the  national  churches.  The 


AN    UNPLEASANT    SNUB.  435 

first  sounds  that  saluted  my  ears  were  the  solemn 
peals  and  '  grave,  sweet  melody '  of  the  organ.  It  is 
probable  that  at  no  distant  period  this  instrument  will 
be  introduced  into  some  of  the  Presbyterian  churches 
in  Scotland,  where  there  is  a  growing  taste  for  good 
music  set  in.  The  opposition  to  it  surely  cannot  rest 
on  scriptural  grounds,  so  long  as  the  Psalms  of  David 
form  a  part  of  the  sacred  volume.  The  singing  in 
this  place  of  worship  was  also  very  beautiful;  and  as 
I  knew  something  of  the  tune  that  was  first  sung,  I 
began  to  accompany  the  band,  or  choir,  but  had  no 
sooner  made  my  voice  audible  —  which  is  not  consid- 
ered disagreeable  in  my  own  country  —  than  the  man 
who  sat  next  me  gave  me  a  hard  punch  in  the  side 
with  his  elbow,  accompanied  by  the  command,  *  Don't 
sing,  sir;7  and  at  the  same  time  I  was  frowned  upon 
by  the  portly,  gowned  seat-keeper,  who  happened  to 
pass  at  the  time,  which  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  con- 
veyed to  me  the  same  unreasonable  rebuke.  I  thus 
understood  that  my  business  here  was  to  be  a  listener, 
as  in  a  theatre ;  and  before  the  assembly  was  dismissed, 
a  female,  who  I  was  informed  is  a  performer  in  the 
opera-house,  stood  up  alone,  and  sang  a  song  to  the 
admiring  crowd." 

When  I  was  a  boy,  I  learned  a  large  number  of 
hymns,  so  many  that  I  could  repeat  them  for  hours. 
I  suppose  I  had  committed  to  memory  three  hundred 
hymns.  They  became  to  me  old  friends.  When 
alone,  I  occasionally  repeat  them.  They  have  often 
been  my  companions  in  the  night-time,  and  I  grieve 
to  meet  one  of  these  hymns  of  my  boyhood  mutilated, 
as  I  would  to  see  an  old  friend  scarred  and  deformed. 
To  show  how  shamefully  some  of  the  precious  hymns 
have  been  mutilated,  and  their  beauty  and  almost 
27 


436  TINKERED   HYMNS. 

their  sense  have  been  destroyed,  I  give  specimens  from 
three  of  my  favorites. 

"  Look  how  we  grovel  here  below, 

Fond  of  these  earthly  toys ; 
Our  souls  how  heavily  they  go 
To  reach  eternal  joys," 

has  been  mutilated  thus : 

"  Our  souls  can  neither  fly  nor  go 
To  reach  eternal  joys." 

The  person  who  changed  that  must  have  been  grovel- 
ling here  below. 

Another  specimen  is  in  that  fine  old  hymn  — 

"My  God!  the  spring  of  all  my  joys." 

The  second  verse,  as  I  learned  it,  and  as  my  mother 
sang  it,  was: 

"  In  darkest  shades,  if  Thou  appear, 

My  dawning  is  begun ; 
Thou  art  my  soul's  bright  morning  star, 
And  Thou  my  rising  sun." 

Some  irreverent  meddler  has  changed  this  to  — 

"  In  darkest  shades,  if  He  appear, 

My  dawning  is  begun ; 
He  is  my  soul's  sweet  morning  star, 
And  He  my  rising  sun." 

Who  ever  heard  of  a  sweet  star,  any  more  than  of  a 
sweet  cataract,  or  the  sweet  sun !  To  me  it  is  lacka- 
daisical. 

That  beautiful  hymn — 

"  Jesus,  and  shall  it  ever  be, 
A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  Thee ; 
Ashamed  of  Thee,  whom  angels  praise, 
Whose  glory  shines  through  endless  days  "  — 

is  outrageously  mutilated;  the  grandeur  and  beauty 


DOGGEREL    RHYMES.  437 

utterly  destroyed  in  the  first  verse.  Think  of  this 
and  weep. 

"  Jesus,  and  shall  it  ever  be, 
A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  Thee? 
Scorned  be  the  thought  by  rich  and  poor, 
Oh,  may  I  scorn  it  more  and  more  !  " 

Here  I  fail  in  utterance  when  I  would  express  my 
contempt  for  such  a  change.  I  cannot  do  justice  to 
the  subject.  Why  will  not  these  hymn-tinkers  prac- 
tise on  something  less  sacred  and  precious  than  the 
old-time  noble  hymns? 

Another  objection  to  a  certain  style  of  hymnology 
is  its  irreverence,  —  the  sacred  name  of  Jesus  so  flip- 
pantly used,  with  absurd  repetition  of  that  name,  to 
meet  the  requirements  of  some  jingling  rhyme. 

"  I  am  so  glad  that  Jesus  loves  me,  Jesus  loves  me,  Jesus  loves  me ; 
I  am  so  glad  that  Jesus  love  me,  loves  me,"  — 

is  a  specimen.  I  express  my  own  opinion,  contrary 
perhaps  to  the  opinion  of  others.  But  I  believe  the 
singing  of  such  doggerel,  in  which  the  Saviour's  name 
is  introduced  in  useless  repetition,  tends  to  foster  an 
irreverence  which  is  unbecoming.  Then  the  pointless 
repetition, 

"  Come  to  Jesus,  come  to  Jesus,  come  to  Jesus 
Just  now.     Just  now  come  to  Jesus ; 
Come  to  Jesus  just  now." 

I  heard  from  good  authority  that  a  certain  revival- 
ist, at  the  commencement  of  a  series  of  meetings, 
proposed  that  while  some  of  the  brethren  retired  for 
some  consultation,  he  would  interest  the  people  by 
singing,  and  he  commenced  singing  this  doggerel. 
The  conference  was  longer  than  he  expected;  and, 
growing  weary  of  the  singing,  he  called  out  to  the 
friends  in  the  vestry : 


438  NAME    HIGH    OVER   ALL. 

"Hurry  up,  hurry  up,  brethren;  I  can't  keep  the 
people  coming  to  Jesus  all  night !  " 

I  protest  against  such  irreverence. 

Who  is  this  of  whom  he  speaks  so  flippantly? 
Read  the  description  of  Him: 

"  His  eyes  were  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  on  His  head 
were  many  crowns,  and  He  had  a  name  written  that 
no  man  knew  but  He  Himself,  and  He  was  clothed 
with  a  vesture  dipped  in  blood,  and  His  name  is  called 
the  Word  of  God."  Again :  "  He  hath  on  His  vesture 
and  on  His  thigh  a  name  written,  *  King  of  kings,  and 
Lord  of  lords.' '  "  His  name  shall  be  called  Wonderful, 
Counsellor,  the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father, 
the  Prince  of  Peace ;  "  and  He  is  "  the  mystery  of 
Godliness,  God  manifest  in  the  flesh."  "  At  the  name 
of  Jesus  every  knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue  con- 
fess Him  to  be  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the 
Father." 

And  this  is  He  whose  name  is  introduced  into  dog- 
gerel, and  sung  to  a  jingling  tune.  I  prefer  Wesley's 
hymn: 

"  Jesus,  the  name  high  over  all, 

In  hell,  or  earth,  or  sky; 
Angels  and  men  before  it  fall, 
And  devils  fear  and  fly." 

I  have  been  told  that  we  should  recognize  the  hu- 
manity of  Christ,  that  He  is  our  elder  brother.  Most 
fully  do  I  accept  Him  in  His  humanity  as  my  sympa- 
thizing Saviour  and  friend,  who  was  tempted  as  I  am. 
He  was  all  this  to  His  disciples,  who  lived  and  walked 
with  Him ;  but  they  called  Him  "  Rabbi,"  "  Master," 
"  Lord."  At  the  last  feast  He  said  to  His  disciples : 
"  Ye  call  me  Master  and  Lord,  and  ye  say  well,  for  so 
I  am;  "  and  this  when  He  had  just  washed  their  feet. 


RELIGIOUS   FLIPPANCY.  439 

The  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  while  lying  on  His 
breast  on  that  memorable  occasion,  in  all  the  intimacy 
of  personal  friendship,  called  Him  "  Lord."  I  cannot 
but  consider  the  flippant  manner  in  which  some  use 
His  sacred  name  to  be  irreverent. 

Then  there  is  a  religious  phraseology  that  amounts 
to  cant.  When  I  receive  a  letter  saluting  me  as  "  My 
fellow-sinner,"  I  always  expect  four  pages  of  cant, 
introducing  "  The  Lord  "  as  if  the  writer  was  famil- 
iarly acquainted  with  Him.  I  could  give  you  many 
specimens  of  this  religious  gush,  but  I  forbear.  A 
gentleman  who  "  dear-brothered "  me,  and  talked 
about  the  Lord  in  a  whining  tone  till  I  was  weary, 
told  me  he  had  not  committed  sin  for  six  months.  I 
told  him  I  did  not  believe  it,  .when  he  became  quite 
angry,  and  I  thought  came  very  near  sinning  in  his 
expressions  of  wrath. 

While  I  am  not  inclined  particularly  to  what  is 
called  Puritanism,  I  have  an  idea  that  if  we  had  a 
little  more  of  the  spirit  and  practice  of  Puritan  times, 
the  churches  would  be  stronger  and  more  successful  in' 
their  warfare  on  sin.  We  can  hardly  attack  that  with 
which  we  fraternize.  I  wish  neither  to  be  critical,  nor 
to  set  up  my  judgment  in  reference  to  the  laxity  of 
church  discipline,  but  I  fear  we  are  spending  more 
time  in  discussing  wThat  we  may  or  may  not  do,  than 
in  considering  what  we  ought  to  do;  how  far  we  may 
conform  to  the  customs  and  amusements  of  the  world 
without  violating  our  covenant  vows,  or  how  much 
we  may  compromise  with  the  world  and  hold  our 
position  in  the  church. 

Jesus  Christ  said  to  his  disciples,  "  I  have  chosen 
you  out  of  the  world."  We  seem  to  be  ignoring  that; 
and  I  ask,  what  amusement  or  pursuit  is  there  fol- 


440  SUPPOSED   PULPIT   NOTICE. 

lowed  by  the  unbeliever,  that  is  not  followed  or  de- 
fended by  some  Christians?  Cards,  dancing,  theatres, 
operas,  wine  and  liquor  drinking,  gambling,  all  these 
are  patronized  and  defended  by  some  who  are  mem- 
bers of  Christ's  body  —  the  Church.  I  have  witnessed 
the  solemn  service  of  admitting  new  members  into 
the  church,  and  heard  those  received  assent  to  the 
doctrines  and  covenant,  in  which  act  they  promised  to 
follow  the  Lord  Christ;  and  I  have  sometimes  imag- 
ined them  at  the  theatre,  at  the  card-table,  or  in  the 
ball-room,  notwithstanding  their  solemn  vows  in  this 
impressive  service,  and  the  idea  seemed  so  inconsist- 
ent as  to  become  revolting. 

Perhaps  we  are  becoming  more  liberal  and  less 
scriptural ;  but  I  own  it  would  be  a  strange  thing  to 
hear  from  among  the  pulpit  notices  one  read  like  the 
following : 

"  There  will  be  a  prayer-meeting  next  Wednesday 
evening,  at  half-past  seven,  to  last  an  hour,  after  which 
there  will  be  a  social  dance  in  the  church  parlors. 

"  The  Whist  Club  will  meet  at  Brother  White's. 
Wine,  spirits,  and  cigars  will  be  furnished.  Only 
whist,  euchre,  and  seven-up  will  be  permitted:  for  we 
must  draw  a  line  somewhere. 

"  On  Saturday  afternoon,  the  Dramatic  Society  Of 
the  Sunday  school  will  rehearse,  previous  to  giving  a 
public  exhibition.  The  play  will  be  the  l  School  for 
Scandal?  revised  by  the  superintendent. 

"  We  propose  omitting  our  usual  Thursday  lecture, 
as  the  opera  company  from  ~New  York  will  give  a 
grand  performance,  and  the  members  of  our  choir  are 
engaged  for  the  chorus  at  the  theatre  on  that  evening. 

"  Our  usual  monthly  lottery  for  the  Sabbath-school 
library  will  be  drawn  at  eight  o'clock  on  Tuesday 
evening.  All  are  invited  to  attend. 


CURIOUS   PROGRAMME.  441 

"  A  fair  will  be  held  on  the  15th  inst.,  in  our  church 
parlors,  to  raise  funds  for  a  new  billiard-table  in  the 
gymnasium  of  the  church.  There  will  be  several  at- 
tractions :  raffling  for  some  very  elegant  articles ;  also 
the  grab-bag  particularly  provided  for  the  children. 
"We  hope  to  see  a  large  attendance.  We  will  now  re- 
sume our  service  by  singing, 

'  Far  from  my  thoughts,  vain  world,  begone.' " 

This  may  be  an  awful  exaggeration  of  what  might 
be.  Very  well ;  let  it  be  so.  I  give  a  verbatim  bill 
of  the  performances  for  the  organ  fund  of  a  Congre- 
gational church  in  England.  It  is  prefaced  by  a  let- 
ter to  the  editor  of  the  Fountain,  from  which  I  copy 
it.  The  letter  is  as  follows : 

"  SIR  :  I  send  you  a  copy  of  a  programme  of  an  entertainment  for  the 
organ  fund  of  a  Congregational  church,  in  the  north  of  England. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  you  may  look  upon  it ;  but  I,  in  common  with 
several  friends,  regard  it  as  a  very  questionable  way  of  raising  money 
for  the  support  of  a  Christian  church. 

"  The  distinction  that  ought  to  exist  betwixt  the  church  and  the 
world  is  entirely  ignored,  and  for  the  time  being  the  maxims  and  policy 
of  the  world  reign  supreme. 

"  The  true  church  possesses  the  only  remedy  for  the  woes  and  sorrows 
of  sin-stricken  humanity;  but  this  remedy  will  not  be  found  in  enter- 
tainments more  suitable  for  a  low  music  saloon  than  for  a  Christian 
church. 

"  Hoping  you  will  use  your  pen  in  reproving  the  evil,  and  show  church- 
members  and  ministers  their  true  work  and  mission  in  the  world,  I  am, 
yours  respectfully,  ." 

"  CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH. 

"  The  public  are  respectfully  informed  that  there  will  be  held  in  the 
Town  Hall,  a  Sale  of  Work,  Wax  Work,  Entertainment,  Promenade  Con- 
cert, High  Art  Exhibition,  and  '  Trial  by  Jury.'  Admission :  To  Sale  of 
Work,  6d-  to  Wax  Work,  6d." 

"  GRAND  WAX- WORK  EXHIBITION. 

"  Under  the  distinguished  patronage  of  General  Holiday,  General 
Laughter,  General  Uproar,  and  the  General  Public,  will  be  exhibited 
the  most  marvellous  collection  of  Living  Wax  Works  in  the  world  never 


442  JOKES   EXPLAINED. 

shown  out  of  London,  in  the  preparing  of  which  every  expense  has  been 
spared. 

"  The  whole  figures  are  too  innumerable  to  mention,  but  the  following 
—  wind  and  weather  permitting  —  will  be  some  of  the  first  to  .arrive : 

"The  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales  (in  native  costume),  from  a  photo 
by  Blackhead,  taken  in  Mary  Land. 

"Mary,  Queen  of  Cullercoats,  singing  '  Buy  my  Caller  Herring.' 

"Professor  Edison,  the  inventor  of  the  electric  light,  discoverer  of  the 
Edison  Lighthouse,  and  other  edifying  animals ;  with  brilliant  examples 
of  the  light. 

"  The  pale-faced  author  of  Cockle's  pills. 

"  Mrs.  Allan  (the  anti-fat  one),  not  the  hair-restorer. 

"  Signer  Frioline  (English,  '  Bill  Fry '),  or  man-fish,  recently  sold  at 
Tynemouth  Aquarium:  together  with  the  kitchen-utensils  and  season- 
ticket  holders,  kindly  lent  by  a  defunct  director  for  this  night  only. 

"  Girl  of  the  period. 

"  Geordie,  in  full  evening  dress. 

"  Guy  Fawkes  (not  of  gunpowder  renown). 

"A  jubilee  singer  (composer  of  'My  Grandfather's  Clock'). 

"  John  Pitch,  alias  Jack  Tar,  doing  a  real  iron-clad  break-down  horn- 
pipe, with  tobacco  accompaniment. 

"  Widows  of  the  late  Brigham  Young. 

"The  Japanese  juggler,  or  jumping  Jesuit  of  the  jointless  jungle. 

"  Doctor  Spruce,  author  of  '  Notions  of  the  Motions  of  the  Oceans,' 
'Durham  Gas  Pipes,'  &c.,  &c. 

"  Little  Zulus,  in  birthday  suits. 

"  Dick  Whittington  and  his  cat,  with  a  catalogue  of  their  catastrophes, 
and  an  account  of  the  mice  she  catched.  Lewis  Paine,  the  spiritualistic 
murderer,  and  the  painful  results  arising  therefrom. 

"  A  father's  blessing,  one  penny.     A  mother's  warning,  tuppence. 

"  Notice.  —  This  marvellous  exhibition,  bear  in  mind,  will  not  parade 
the  town  each  day  at  one  o'clock,  headed  by  a  cracked  brass  band,  but 
will  discourse  sweet  music  from  a  really  playful  organ-man  during  the 
entertainment. 

"Telescopes,  opera-glasses,  weather-glasses,  wine-glasses,  and  spec- 
tacle-cases on  hire,  by  application  at  the  door. 

"Admission. — Tickets  to  be  obtained  at  post  office,  police  office, 
register  office,  telegraph  office,  or  by  payment  at  the  door,  especially  the 
latter.  Reserved  seats  (which  persons  are  requested  to  bring  with  them), 
1*.  Second  seats,  Gd.  Gallery  free.  Cabs  (Brown's,  or  any  other  man's), 
wheelbarrows,  perambulators,  milk  carts,  to  be  ordered  at  11.60  p.  M. 

"Trains.  —  The  local  trains  will  be  run  as  usual,  and  the  railway 
station  ought  to  be  thoroughly  cleaned  for  the  occasion.  Jokes  not  seen 
during  the  entertainment  will  be  explained  at  6  A.  M.  next  evening. 

"  The  highly  instructive  explanations  of  the  figures  will  be  given  by 
Professor  Talkey,  of  Torkee  (Torquay)." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


MY  VIEWS   ON   THE    TEMPERANCE    QUESTION. 

Drunkenness  a  Sin  and  a  Disease  —  Is  moderate  Drinking  a  Sin?  —  My 
First  Intoxication  —  Rum  and  Water  in  a  Temperance  Meeting  — 
"Gentlemanly  Inebriation" — The  Intoxicated  Boy  —  Pathology  of 
Drunkenness  —  Testimony  of  Dr.  Richardson  —  Destructive  Effects 
of  Alcohol  on  the  Mind  —  Statement  of  Joseph  Cook  —  Legend  of 
the  Triple  Choice — The  Sin  is  in  the  Cause,  and  not  the  Effect — 
Statements  of  Win.  Arnot,  D.D.  —  Two  Ways  of  keeping  a  Nation 
sober  —  Total-Abstinence  as  an  Unfailing  Remedy  —  Prevention 
better  than  Cure  —  The  Giant's  Hand  —  Drunkenness  unnatural  — 
Testimony  of  Distinguished  Physicians  —  Case  of  the  Hon.  E.  C.  Han- 
negan  —  His  former  Useful  Life  —  The  Terrible  Fall  and  Dissipation 
—  The  Murder. 


[WING  to  some  misapprehensions  as  to 
my  position  in  the  temperance  work, 
it  becomes  my  duty  to  record  some- 
what fully  my  opinions  and  define  my 
position  in  reference  to  the  temperance 
question.  I  may  diifer  widely  from 
some  with  whom  I  am  glad  to  work; 
but  my  views  are  my  own.  Certain 
conclusions,  after  thirty-seven  years'  ex- 
perience, have  been  forced  upon  me.  I  shall  not  be 
dogmatical,  or  profess  infallibility ;  but  I  shall  express 
my  views,  opinions,  and  sentiments  so  that  there  can 
be  no  doubt  where  I  stand. 

I  consider  drunkenness  a  sin,  but  I  consider  it  also 
a  disease.     It  is  a  physical  as  well  as  a  moral  evil. 

M3 


444  OVERCOME    BY   DRINKING. 

Sin  is  defined  by  Webster  as  "  Transgression  of  the 
law  of  God;  disobedience  to  the  Divine  command; 
any  violation  of  God's  will,  either  in  purpose  or  con- 
duct; moral  deficiency  in  the  character;  iniquity." 
Webster  defines  drunkenness  as  "  The  state  of  being 
drunken,  or  overpowered  by  alcoholic  liquor;  intoxi- 
cation; inebriety."  Taking  these  definitions  as  cor- 
rect, I  ask,  When  is  drunkenness  a  sin?  I  speak  of 
an  actual  sin,  which  is  "  the  act  of  a  moral  agent  in 
violating  a  known  rule  of  duty,  and  to  depart  volun- 
tarily from  the  path  of  duty  prescribed  by  God  to 
men ;  to  violate  the  divine  law,  in  any  particular,  by 
actual  transgression." 

We  will  suppose  a  case.  You  are  a  Christian  mod- 
erate drinker.  You  scout  the  idea  of  moderate  drinking 
being  a  sin.  To  take  one,  two,  or  three  glasses  of  wine 
a  sin  ?  No,  certainly  not !  You  sustain  your  practice 
by  holy  Scripture;  and  I  will  agree,  if  you  wish,  that 
you  do  it  conscientiously,  and  that  you  can  ask  God's 
blessing  on  the  wine.  You  have  it  daily  on  the  table. 
The  minister  of  the  church  to  which  you  belong  coun- 
tenances its  use.  You  have  a  son  who  has  never 
tasted  wine  during  his  childhood.  He  is  now  fourteen 
or  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  you  give  him  the  wine. 
He  becomes  drunk,  viz.,  "  overcome  by  drinking,  in- 
toxicated, inebriated."  Does  he  commit  sin?  "  Cer- 
tainly not,"  you  say;  "he  did  not  know  what  its  eifect 
•would  be,  nor  did  I !  "  Very  well ;  then  it  is  a  physi- 
cal inability  to  drink  without  inebriety.  The  first 
time  I  was  intoxicated  I  drank  with  others;  I  had  no 
more  idea  of  doing  wrong  in  that  act  of  drinking  than 
in  eating  bread.  I  did  as  others  did.  It  went  to  my 
head.  I  was  inebriated. 

In  the  early  days  of  my  work,  I  was  holding  a 


A   COWAKDLY   TEICK.  445 

series  of  meetings  in  a  village  in  "New  England.  It 
was  my  custom  then  to  speak  for  an  hour  or  more, 
then  sing  temperance  songs,  and  invite  signers  to  the 
pledge.  I  used  often  to  become  excited.  One  even- 
ing I  was  very  warm  in  the  crowded  room,  and  became 
thirsty.  There  was  neither  glass  nor  pitcher  in  the 
desk,  and  I  asked,  "  Would  some  one  be  kind  enough 
to  procure  some  water? "  After  waiting  some  min- 
utes, a  full  pitcher  was  handed  me.  There  being  no 
glass,  I  hastily  lifted  the  pitcher  to  my  lips,  and  de- 
tected the  odor  of  alcohol,  and  found  it  was  a  mixture 
of  rum  and  water,  and  not  very  weak.  Suppose  in 
my  excitement  I  had  failed  to  detect  the  smell  of  the 
spirit,  and  not  dreaming  of  such  a  cowardly  trick,  had 
drank  the  mixture  and  become  inebriated  ?  There 
would  be  no  sin  in  the  drinking ;  but  if  I  had  detected 
and  wilfully  drank  it,  knowing  the  results,  the  act  of 
drinking  would  have  been  a  sinful  one. 

You  say,  "A  man  who  cannot  drink  moderately 
should  let  it  alone."  Granted ;  but  how  will  he  know 
that  he  cannot  drink  without  inebriety,  unless  he  ex- 
periments; and  in  the  experiment,  if  he  becomes 
intoxicated,  does  he  commit  sin?  "No,"  you  say. 
"  But  to  get  drunk  is  a  sin."  Now,  I  believe  that 
when  a  man  knows  that  the  use  of  intoxicating 
liquors,  or  any  other  thing,  is  detrimental  to  his 
health,  injurious  to  him  in  body  or  mind,  hinders  him 
in  his  useful  labor,  or  is  hurtful  to  him  in  any  other 
way,  and  will,  solely  for  his  sensuous  gratification, 
use  it,  then  he  commits  sin. 

The  difficulty  may  be,  that  your  son,  if  he  is  of  the 
nervous,  susceptible  temperament,  may  be  so  fasci- 
nated by  the  exhilaration  and  temporary  exaltation, 
that  when  the  remembrance  of  the  pain  and  reaction 


446  THE   FIRST   INTOXICATION. 

has  faded,  the  recollection  of  the  enjoyment  becomes 
more  vivid,  and  he  determines  with  caution  to  obtain 
again  the  pleasure,  without  making  a  "  fool  of  himself 
by  getting  drunk."  So  he  tries  it  again,  and  for  the 
fleeting  enjoyment  he  runs  an  awful  risk,  the  risk 
being  in  proportion  to  the  fascination  of  what  is  often 
termed  "  gentlemanly  inebriation ;  "  for  every  time  he 
indulges,  he  loses  power  to  resist,  and  therefore  be- 
comes ensnared. 

A  gentleman  at  my  house  told  me  that  when  he  was 
ten  years  old,  a  young  lady,  out  of  fun,  gave  him 
some  diluted  whiskey,  and  enticed  him  to  drink  it. 
He  drank,  and  became  intoxicated.  Said  he :  "  I  shall 
never  forget  coming  out  of  that  stupid  sleep;  I  felt 
awfully.  That  is  fifty-two  years  ago,  and  nothing 
could  tempt  me  to  touch  a  drop  in  all  these  years." 
A  very  wise  decision.  Did  that  boy  commit  sin? 

A  dyspeptic  who  knows  that  a  certain  article  of 
food  is  injurious,  and  who  will  for  the  sake  of  grati- 
fying the  desire  for  that  article  of  food,  partake  of  it, 
commits  sin.  The  sin  is  not  in  the  dyspepsia,  but 
in  the  wilful  aggravation  of  the  disease  by  self-indul- 
gence. 

Perhaps  this  is  what  is  termed  splitting  hairs,  but 
our  opponents  are  constantly  endeavoring  to  puzzle 
us  by  hair-splitting.  Rheumatism  is  not  a  sin,  but  if 
I  wilfully  expose  myself  for  my  own  gratification, 
when  the  suffering  comes  I  must  or  ought  to  bear  it 
patiently,  as  a  penalty  for  violated  law. 

Do  you  compare  drunkenness  with  dyspepsia  or 
rheumatism?  I  make  no  comparisons.  If  you  mean 
the  simple  act  of  drunkenness  in  endeavoring  to  as- 
certain whether  you  can  drink  with  impunity,  or  the 
wilful  perpetuation  of  dyspepsia  or  rheumatism  by 


WILSON'S  PATHOLOGY.  447 

self-gratification,  I  should  say  that  the  least  sin  was- 
in  the  simple  act  of  inebriety;  but  if  you  ask  whether 
habitual  drunkenness  is  to  be  compared  with  these 
other  evils,  I  say,  a  thousand  times,  that  habitual 
drinking,  with  the  knowledge  that  drunkenness  will 
ensue,  is  a  tenfold  greater  sin  than  any  habit  or  act 
that  brings  on  these  other  diseases.  I  say  that  the 
voluntary  drinking  is  the  sin,  drunkenness  is  the 
result  of  the  act;  the  cause  of  it  is  the  drinking. 

Let  no  one  suppose  for  a  moment  that  I  would  pal- 
liate the  evil  of  drunkenness  —  occasional  or  habitual; 
but  while  we  condemn  the  effect,  let  us  condemn  also 
the  cause.  The  whole  civilized  world  is  groaning 
under  the  awful  results  of  intemperance  in  the  use  of 
intoxicating  liquors;  a  large  proportion  of  the  crime, 
lunacy,  suicides,  pauperism,  being  caused  by  it.  Look 
at  its  effects  on  the  victim!  "Wilson's  Pathology  of 
Drunkenness  "  is  a  most  vivid  and  fearful  revelation 
of  the  progress  from  conviviality  to  casual  and  habit- 
ual intoxication,  and  the  constitutional  and  mental 
results.  He  tells  us  that  disturbance  of  the  circula- 
tion, disorder  of  the  functions  of  digestion,  disease 
of  the  liver,  of  the  kidneys,  of  the  lungs,  tubercular 
degeneration,  mania  a  potu,  hiccough,  an  acute  prog- 
ress of  decay,  brain-disease,  and  apoplexy,  are  some 
of  the  constitutional  results ;  and  "  loss  or  confusion 
of  memory,  mental  aberration,  delirium,  lunacy,  and 
suicide  are  some  of  the  mental  results.  The  springs 
of  life  are  tainted  at  their  source,  and  their  currents 
diffusing  themselves  everywhere  through  the  system, 
the  one  as  the  basis  of  vitality,  the  other  as  the  origin 
of  its  leading  phenomena,  leave  the  traces  of  their 
altered  qualities  everywhere  apparent." 

Dr.  Richardson  says: 


448  AN   OLD   LEGEND. 

"If  I  were  to  take  you  through  all  the  passions  that  remain  to  he 
named,  —  love  and  lust,  hate  and  envy,  avarice  and  pride,  —  I  should  but 
show  you  that  alcohol  ministers  to  them  all ;  that,  paralyzing  the  reason, 
it  takes  from  all  these  passions  that  fine  adjustment  of  reason  which  not 
only  places  man  above  the  lower  animals,  but,  when  celestially  attuned, 
places  him  little  lower  than  the  angels. 

"  The  demonstrative  evidence  of  alcohol  in  its  influence  on  the  mind 
is  then  most  clear. 

"  From  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  its  influence  it  subdues  reason  and 
sets  free  passion.  The  analogies,  physical  and  mental,  are  perfect.  That 
which  loosens  the  tension  of  the  vessels  which  feed  the  body  with  due 
order  of  precision,  and  thereby  lets  loose  the  heart  to  violent  excess  of 
unbridled  motion,  loosens  also  the  reason,  and  lets  loose  the  passions.  In 
both  instances  heart  and  head  are  for  a  time  out  of  harmony,  their  bal- 
ance broken.  The  man  descends  closer  and  closer  to  the  lower  animals. 
From  the  angels  he  glides  further  and  farther  away. 

"  The  destructive  effects  of  alcohol  on  the  human  mind  present,  finally, 
the  saddest  picture  of  its  influence.  The  most  {esthetic  artist  can  find  no 
angel  here.  All  is  animal,  and  animal  of  the  worst  type.  Memory  irre- 
trievably lost,  words  and  very  elements  of  speech  forgotten,  or  words 
displaced  to  have  no  meaning  in  them.  Rage  and  anger,  persistent  and 
mischievous,  or  remittent  and  impotent.  Fear  at  every  corner  of  life, 
distrust  on  every  side,  grief  merged  into  blank  despair,  hopelessness  into 
permanent  melancholy.  Surely  no  Pandemonium  that  ever  poet  dreamt 
of  could  equal  that  which  would  exist  if  all  the  drunkards  of  the  world 
were  driven  into  one  mortal  sphere." 

Joseph  Cook  says : 

"  Harden  the  brain  by  drenching  it  with  alcohol,  and  you  harden  the 
moral  motive;  and,  whatever  disorganizes  brain  disorganizes  character." 

Every  one  of  the  thousands  of  victims  who  are,  we 
fear,  descending  to  the  drunkard's  grave,  began  with 
the  first  glass,  and  the  whole  evil  is  caused  by  drink- 
ing intoxicating  liquor.  It  is  an  awful  sin  above  all 
others.  It  is  the  promoter  of  all  that  is  evil,  of  all 
that  is  vile  and  abominable.  It  solidifies  and  crystal- 
lizes, and  makes  chronic,  every  evil  passion  of  de- 
praved human  nature. 

I  have  read  somewhere  an  old  legend,  in  which  a 
man  was  offered  his  choice  of  three  voluntary  acts:  to 
murder  his  father,  burn  down  his  house,  or  get  drunk. 


DKUKKEN^ESS   A   PENALTY.  449 

Laughingly  he  chose  the  latter,  as  that  could  not  be 
very  harmful.  He  got  drunk.  While  in  that  state 
he  became  furious.  Enraged  at  his  father's  attempt 
to  control  him,  he  struck  him  a  blow  with  a  hammer 
that  lay  near,  and  killed  him ;  then,  filled  with  horror 
at  the  deed,  he  set  fire  to  the  house,  thus  to  destroy 
the  body  and  hide  his  crime. 

Drunkenness  is  a  sin  unlike  others,  in  that  it  carries 
its  penalty  with  it  in  the  suffering  and  enslavement 
of  its  victim.  It  is  but  the  penalty  for  violated  law; 
the  sin  is  not  in  the  penalty,  but  in  the  violation  of 
law.  Now,  is  there  no  wrong  in  drinking,  unless  it 
produces  what  we  call  drunkenness  or  intoxication? 
If  you  mean  by  drunkenness  a  persistent  use  of  alco- 
holic beverages,  knowing  all  the  consequences,  then 
it  is  always  and  ever  sin  against  the  body,  the  mind, 
the  soul,  and  society,  and  a  grievous  sin  against  God. 
But  is  there  no  sin  in  the  intoxication  that  consists  in 
mere  exhilaration,  elevation,  or  excitement;  or  even 
the  slight  confusion  of  thought,  without  staggering  or 
stammering?  If  the  brain  is  disturbed  in  its  action 
and  the  power  of  the  will  weakened,  or  if  the  self- 
control  is  affected,  the  perception  stimulated  while  its 
accuracy  is  destroyed;  if  the  judgment  is  perverted, 
if  the  drinker  will  go  where  he  would  not  go  without 
it,  say  what  he  would  not  say  without  it,  think  as  he 
would  not  think,  and  do  as  he  would  not  do  with- 
out it;  though  his  utterance  may  not  be  thick,  his 
eye  may  be  clear,  his  gait  steady,  and  no  outward 
appearance  giving  evidence,  —  is  he  not  in  some  de- 
gree tipsy,  inebriated,  drunk? 

Can  a  man  steal  a  little,  lie  a  little,  swear  a  little, 
and  be  innocent?  Are  there  any  degrees  by  which 
you  may  measure  the  enormity  or  the  veniality  of 


450  ABSTINENCE PROHIBITION. 

these  practices?  Is  it  a  trifling  thing  to  be  tipsy, 
and  a  serious  thing  to  get  drunk?  Where  does  the 
sin  commence?  I  confess  I  am  puzzled  to  get  any 
reply  to  these  questions.  But  what  does  it  all  amount 
to?  Just  this:  I  desire  to  fasten  the  sin  where  it  be- 
longs —  on  the  cause,  not  the  effect. 

As  I  have  stated  on  another  page,  the  Rev.  "Wm. 
Arnot,  at  my  request,  gave  me  his  opinions  on  the 
liquor  traffic,  and  I  quote  again  from  his  manuscript: 

"There  are  two  possible  ways  of  making  and  keeping  a  nation  sober. 
The  result  might  be  attained  by  the  people  voluntarily  abjuring  the  use 
of  intoxicating  liquor,  or  by  the  legislature  authoritatively  prohibiting 
its  manufacture  and  sale.  The  one  is  the  principle  of  abstinence  socie- 
ties ;  the  other  is  the  principle  of  what  is  called  the  Maine  Law.  Under 
the  one  method,  if  fully  carried  out,  there  would  be  no  drinkers ;  and 
under  the  other,  there  would  be  no  drink.  Either  operation,  if  complete, 
would  effect  a  cure.  If  one  instrument  were  thoroughly  driven  home, 
both  would  not  be  required. 

"  If  a  choice  were  offered,  we  would  prefer  the  former.  We  would 
rather  see  the  blot  of  drunkenness  wiped  off  by  the  spontaneous  self- 
denial  of  the  people  than  by  an  application  of  the  ruler's  power.  This 
would  indicate  a  better  moral  condition  of  the  community,  and  the  ex- 
ertion would  react  to  increase  the  moral  power  that  produced  it.  But 
in  the  present  ruined  and  imperfect  state  of  human  affairs,  it  would  be 
foolish  to  refuse  a  portion  of  the  coarser  material,  when  the  supply  of 
the  finer  article  falls  short.  We  are  glad,  on  all  accounts,  to  take  in  the 
first  instance  as  much  of  voluntary  abstinence  as  we  can  get;  but  after 
all  that  this  best  method  has  yet  done,  or  is  likely  to  do,  the  Demon  Vice 
possesses  still  a  great  multitude  of  the  people,  and  deprives  them  of 
their  right  mind.  For  these  circumstances,  when  we  cannot  get  him 
cast  out  by  the  power  of  a  people's  virtuous  will,  we  own  we  should  be 
heartily  glad  to  see  him  driven  out  by  the  strong  arm  of  the  law. 

"  We  have  no  desire  to  see  a  prohibitory  law  suddenly  enacted  before 
the  people  are  prepared  to  support  it.  We  do  not  desire  to  go  before 
public  opinion ;  but  we  do  desire  to  urge  public  opinion  forward.  People 
need  not  be  afraid  of  a  prohibitory  law  being  enacted  over  the  heads  of 
a  remonstrant  community.  Such  a  law  will  not  be  passed  by  the  legis- 
lature, until  the  majority  of  the  community  desire  it,  and  a  good  while 
after  that.  But  whatever  may  be  the  prospect  of  an  entirely  prohibitory 
law  being  desired  by  the  people  of  this  country  and  enacted  by  Parlia- 
ment, there  are  various  degrees  of  partial  limitation  possible  and  desir- 
able in  the  meantime.  It  is  the  part  of  practical  wisdom  to  look  to 
these.  A  greater  number  of  persons  may  be  induced  to  unite  in  obtain- 


PREVENTION  BETTER  THAN  CURE.      451 

ing  them,  and  they  will  diminish  the  evil  which  they  cannot  eradicate. 
There  may  be  limitations  in  the  kinds  of  drink,  in  the  number  of  sellers, 
in  the  duties  imposed,  in  the  price  of  license,  in  the  terms  of  conducting 
the  traffic.  It  is  the  duty  of  all  good  citizens,  if  they  cannot  knock  the 
wild  beast  on  the  head,  to  join  in  the  effort  to  give  him  a  short  and 
aye  a  shorter  tether. 

"  A  great  boon  in  this  direction  has  been  obtained  for  Scotland  in  the 
recently  enacted  law  for  the  regulation  of  public-houses.  The  measure 
deserves  not  absolute,  but  comparative  praise.  The  thankfulness 
with  which  we  receive  it  is  caused  less  by  its  own  inherent  qualities 
than  by  the  enormities  which  it  supersedes.  It  is  the  exceeding  badness 
of  the  former  state  of  things  that  makes  the  present  appear  so  good. 
Our  rejoicing  under  the  Public-House  Act  is  like  the  rejoicing  wherewith 
the  inhabitants  of  a  Turkish  province  learn  the  appointment  of  a  new 
pasha  who  will  only  strip  them  of  their  treasures,  and  the  dismissal  of 
the  old  one  who  skinned  them  alive.  A  very  execrable  tyrant  was  that 
pasha  who  sat  astride  of  the  Scottish  people  to  regulate  the  spirit 
traffic,  previous  to  the  loth  of  May  last.*  Practically  there  seemed  to  be 
no  limit  to  the  number  of  public  houses.  Every  man  got  a  license  who 
wanted  it,  every  proprietor  who  thought  his  shop  would  let  better  for  the 
sale  of  whiskey  than  for  doing  other  business,  contrived  to  get  a  friendly 
justice  to  attend  to  his  interests  on  licensing-day.  At  every  corner  the 
spiders  spread  their  webs,  and  the  community  had  no  voice  and  no  re- 
dress, any  more  than  if  they  had  been  so  many  blue-bottles." 

I  quote  these  words  as  the  expression  of  my  own 
opinion  in  reference  to  the  remedy  for  the  terrible 
evil  of  drunkenness.  I  shall  first  propound  my  views 
on  total  abstinence  as  a  certain,  effectual  cure.  It 
never  fails;  it  cannot  fail.  It  stops  the  supplies,  and 
the  evil  must  cease;  it  dries  up  the  spring,  and  there 
can  be  no  stream. 

Prevention  is  better  than  cure.  It  is  worth  a  life- 
effort  to  save  a  drunkard,  to  lift  a  man  from  degrada- 
tion. It  is  worth  some  self-sacrifice  to  free  a  man 
from  moral  slavery  and  debasement;  but  to  prevent 
his  fall  is  far  better.  We  may  reform  a  man  from 
drunkenness,  but  I  believe  no  man  can  ever  fully 
recover  from  the  effects  of  years  of  dissipation  and 
intemperance.  You  put  your  hand  in  that  of  a  giant, 

*  This  refers  to  the  Sunday-closing  Act  of  Scotland. 

28 


452  NEVER   USE   IT,   NEVER  WANT   IT. 

and  he  crushes  it.  You  shriek  in  your  agony,  and 
after  long  struggling,  with  a  desperate  effort  you 
extricate  your  hand  from  that  fearful  grip ;  it  is  torn, 
crushed,  mangled,  and  bleeding.  That  hand  may  at 
last  be  healed;  but  it  will  be  mutilated  as  long  as  you 
live.  It  may  become  a  useful  hand,  but  its  beauty 
and  symmetry  is  gone  forever.  So  a  man  may  be 
cured  of  drunkenness ;  but  the  marks  are  on  him,  and 
will  be  to  the  day  of  his  death.  You  cannot  take  the 
stain  from  snow,  nor  restore  the  bloom  when  once 
rubbed  from  the  fruit;  no  more  can  you  remove  from 
the  man  the  marks  and  stains  produced  by  long- 
continued  habits  of  self-indulgence  and  intemperance; 
but  we  can  save  the  children. 

No  child  was  ever  born  with  a  natural  appetite  for 
intoxicating  drink,  any  more  than  with  an  appetite 
for  tobacco ;  except,  perhaps,  in  those  cases  where  the 
sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  on  the  children,  and 
the  child  or  grandchild  of  the  drunkard  seems  to 
possess  a  natural  appetite  for  drink.  I  shall  allude  to 
this  more  fully  on  a  future  page.  If  he  ever  wants 
it,  it  is  because  he  has  used  it.  The  use  of  it  pro- 
duces the  desire  for  it.  We  have  hundreds  of  life- 
time abstainers  who  have  never  tasted  it,  and  they 
have  never  wanted  it. 

I  believe  that  no  reputable  physician  of  common 
sense  will  admit  that  alcoholic  stimulants  are  neces- 
sary in  health,  but,  on  the  contrary,  will  declare 
them  to  be  positively  injurious.  Dr.  Richardson,  Sir 
Henry  Thompson,  Sir  Wm.  Gull,  Dr.  Edmunds,  Dr. 
Norman  Ker,  and  scores  of  the  best  physicians  in 
Great  Britain,  and  many  in  our  own  country,  have 
publicly  testified  by  their  words  and  their  writings 
that  alcoholic  drinks  are  never  necessary  in  health; 


A  VERT   SAD   CASE.  453 

so  that  total  abstinence  is  the  safe,  sure,  and  absolute 
preventive  for  every  child  who  adopts  it.  So  my 
theory  is,  "Prevention  is  better  than  cure."  This  act 
of  abstinence  is  perfectly  easy  for  the  child  who  has 
never  tasted,  comparatively  easy  for  the  moderate 
drinker,  and  positively  hard  for  the  excessive  drinker. 
There  are  many  men  who  cannot  drink  intoxicating 
liquor  in  moderation;  if  they  drink  at  all,  they  be- 
come crazed  by  the  first  glass,  and  rush  into  excess. 
I  give  one  case.  The  facts  as  to  the  killing  of  his 
brother-in-law  by  the  Hon.  E.  C.  Hannegan  were 
widely  known  at  the  time,  many  years  since.  Mr. 
Hannegan  had  been  a  member  of  the  legislature, 
both  houses  of  Congress,  ambassador  to  Prussia. 
John  Wentworth,  of  Chicago,  who  served  with  him 
in  Congress,  thus  commented  on  his  case  in  the 
"  Chicago  Democrat " : 

"  Every  man  who  has  seen  Mr.  Hannegan  when  under  the  influence 
of  liquor,  as  we  have,  can  believe  the  above  (viz.,  the  statement  of  the 
homicide) ;  and  every  one  who  has  seen  him  and  lived  at  the  same  house 
with  him  and  his  family,  as  we  have,  when  he  was  a  total-abstinence 
man  for  months  together,  will  indeed  pity  him. 

"  When  sober,  he  is  as  pure,  as  upright,  as  kind,  and  as  generous  a 
man  as  there  is  in  this  country.  With  him  there  can  be  no  middle  state. 
He  is  a  brute  when  drunk;  when  sober,  he  will  compare  in  all  the 
elements  of  goodness  with  any  man  living.  But  he  cannot  drink  without 
getting  drunk.  Mr.  Hannegan  entered  the  Lower  House  of  Congress 
many  years  ago,  a  perfectly  temperate  man,  and  in  point  of  talents, 
integrity,  and  popularity,  his  prospects  were  as  flattering  as  those  of  any 
young  man  in  the  United  States ;  but  Washington  habits  and  fashions 
were  too  much  for  him. 

"  Dissipation  drove  him  to  private  life.  He  reformed,  became  a  tem- 
perance lecturer  and  an  exemplary  member  of  the  church.  His  exhorta- 
tions in  times  of  great  revivals  are  said  to  have  equalled  those  of  the 
most  eloquent  divines  living.  At  length  his  old  habits  were  forgotten, 
and  he  was  sent  to  the  Senate.  He  took  his  seat  an  exemplary  '  Son  of 
Temperance  '  and  a  Christian ;  but  again  the  temptations  were  too  great 
for  him.  His  struggles  with  himself  were  gigantic,  and  the  assistance 
of  one  of  Nature's  noblest  of  women,  his  wife,  secured  for  him  the  sym- 


454  AN  AWFFL   COMMENT. 

pathy  of  everybody.  But  he  would  have  his  sprees,  and  he  lost  his 
reelection.  Like  most  politicians,  he  left  office  miserably  poor.  At  the 
close  of  his  term  and  of  Mr.  Polk's  administration,  to  keep  so  popular 
and  so  good  a  man  from  despair  and  ruin,  the  senators  unanimously  — 
Whigs  and  Democrats  —  signed  a  call  for  Mr.  Polk  to  send  him  to 
Prussia,  and  he  was  appointed  to  that  mission.  His  unfortunate  career 
there  is  well  known.  Since  his  return  we  have  heard  nothing  of  him 
until  this  melancholy  affair. 

"  We  have  seen  many  a  young  man  enter  Congress  perfectly  tem- 
perate, and  leave  it  totally  ruined ;  but  we  never  knew  one  who  had  so 
many  efforts  to  save  him,  so  ineffectually,  as  Mr.  Hannegan.  We  now 
have  in  our  mind  three,  in  our  own  term,  who  killed  themselves.  Mr. 
Hannegan  has  tried  to  do  so  several  times ;  but  he  lived  to  kill  his  wife's 
brother,  the  best  friend,  save  his  wife,  he  had  in  the  world.  That  he 
wishes  he  was  in  poor  Duncan's  place,  we  have  no  doubt.  What  an 
awful  comment,  this,  upon  the  evils  of  intemperance !  It  was  the  first 
drop  that  ruined  Hannegan.  He  is  now  about  the  middle  age  of  man, 
and  may  yet  live  to  be  a  very  useful  man ;  but  there  is  greater  proba- 
bility that  he  will  commit  suicide." 


CHAPTEK  XXXn. 

* 

TEMPERANCE  AND   "  THE    GRACE   OF  GOD."  —  MY  OWN 
EXPERIENCE   AND   THAT   OF   OTHERS. 

Is  Reform  possible  without  Religion?  —  Grounds  of  Appeal  —  Total 
Abstinence  does  not  renew  Nature  —  My  First  Pledge  without  "the 
Help  of  God"  —  The  Memory  of  the  Garret  Bedroom  —  My  Second 
Pledge  under  the  Grace  of  God  —  Does  the  Grace  of  God  take  away 
the  Appetite?  —  Poison  kills  the  Christian  and  the  Hottentot  —  The 
Grace  of  God  includes  Voluntary  Total  Abstinence  —  Is  the  Drunk- 
ard's Appetite  left?  —  My  Disgust  at  the  Drink  no  Proof  that  Appe- 
tite is  gone  —  Communion  Wine  ;  its  Effect  —  Wines  in  Cooking  — 
Religion  removes  the  Desire,  but  not  the  Appetite  —  Self-Deception 
on  this  Point  —  Thrilling  Letter  of  a  Clergyman  —  The  Converted 
Rum-Seller's  Experience  —  The  Fallen  Minister  —  The  only  Safety  is 
in  Total  Abstinence  —  "  The  Pledge  and  the  Cross." 


AN"  a  man,  who  is  a  drunkard,  abstain 
without  the  special  grace  of  God,  or, 
in  other  words,  without  being  a  Chris- 
tian? Can  he  break  his  chains,  when  he 
has  been  fettered  for  years,  by  the  power 
of  his  own  will?  In  answer  to  this,  I 
will  say,  that  I  would  never  admit  to  a 
man  that  he  could  not  stop  drinking  unless 
he  became  a  Christian  ;  that  is,  as  we  under- 
stand it,  received  the  new  birth  —  became  converted, 
according  to  the  scriptural  interpretation  of  that 
term. 

He  may  be  a  skeptic,  an  unbeliever,  a  man  who 

455 


456  ABSTINENCE    REASONABLE. 

rejects  the  gospel,  who  has  no  faith  in  prayer.  Can  I 
tell  him  that  he  must  continue  a  drunkard  unless  he 
becomes  a  believer?  Love  of  the  drink  may  be,  as  it 
often  is,  the  hindrance  to  his  belief.  If  my  appeal 
to  him  to  give  up  the  drink  on  the  ground  of  its 
being  a  sin  against  God,  produces  no  effect,  may  I 
not  urge  the  personal  advantage  in  the  restoration  to 
society?  May  I  not  plead  with  him  to  give  it  up  for 
his  own  prosperity,  comfort,  and  respectability,  and 
tell  him  he  can  abstain  if  he  will?  Suppose  he  will 
give  up  no  other  sin,  —  that  he  will  profane  the  Sab- 
bath, take  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  just  as  he  is 
doing  now,  —  is  it  not  right  and  expedient  for  him  to 
give  up  that  one  sin,  even  if  he  purposes  to  give  up 
no  other?  While  I  believe  that  drunkenness  hinders 
more  men  from  coming  to  Christ,  from  hearing  and 
accepting  the  gospel,  than  any  other  agency,  am  I 
not  doing  a  good  work  as  far  as  it  goes? 

Total  abstinence  from  drink,  or  abstinence  from 
theft,  or  lying,  or  profane  swearing,  will  not  open  for 
him  the  kingdom  of  heaven;  nothing  but  the  power 
of  the  grace  of  God  can  renew  him  in  his  nature. 

"When  I  signed  the  pledge,  I  was  an  unbeliever. 
The  appeal  to  me  was  on  the  ground  of  personal  ad- 
vantage :  "  How  should  you  like  to  be  respectable, 
esteemed,"  &c.  The  nearest  approach  to  anything  of 
a  religious  nature  in  the  appeal  was  in  the  question, 
"  How  should  you  like  to  be  well  dressed,  and  go  to 
church?"  In  the  speech  I  made,  on  affixing  my 
name  to  the  pledge,  I  said,  "  I  am  resolved  to  free 
myself  from  the  tyrant  Bum."  There  was  not  a 
thought  of  God;  my  motive  in  that  act  and  declara- 
tion was  a  mere  selfish  one.  In  all  my  struggle  I 
never  uttered  a  prayer.  I  had  not  prayed  for  years. 


POWER   OF   MY   WILL.  459 

I  said  during  the  struggle,  "Oh,  my  God!  I  shall 
die;  "  and  after  Jesse  Goodrich  had  encouraged  me, 
I  said,  "  By  God's  help,  I  will  keep  up  a  brave  heart." 
Yet  I  had  no  thought  of  asking  God's  help.  I  heed- 
lessly used  a  term. 

I  fought  that  battle  alone  for  six  days,  and  though 
nearly  thirty-eight  years  have  passed  away,  that  garret 
bedroom,  my  bed,  my  broken  trunk,  the  window  in 
the  roof,  the  little  strip  of  carpet,  the  water-jug,  my 
shabby  clothing  as  it  lay  on  the  one  chair  in  the  room, 
—  are  so  vividly  present  before  me,  that,  were  I  an 
artist,  I  could  reproduce  the  scene  in  all  its  detail  on 
the  canvas.  When  I  had  obtained  the  victory,  there 
was  no  thought  of  thankfulness  to  God;  it  was  a  sen- 
sation of  pride  in  the  consciousness  of  the  power  of 
my  will;  and  I  often  boasted  that  no  human  being 
helped  or  encouraged  me  in  that  struggle,  with  the 
sole  exception  of  Jesse  Goodrich.  Do  I  undervalue 
the  grace  of  God  in  all  this?  ]STo;  I  simply  wish  to 
state  that  a  man  may  abstain,  if  he  will. 

To  return  to  my  own  case.  I  continued  for  five 
months  an  abstainer  from  drink.  I  entered  the  field 
as  a  lecturer,  self-reliant  and  boastful.  Then  I  fell, 
covered  with  shame  and  mortification.  After  a  week's 
absence,  I  returned  from  Boston  to  Worcester,  where 
I  was  living,  and  re-signed  the  pledge,  giving  up  all 
expectation  of  any  more  public  advocacy.  I  have  re- 
lated all  this  at  length  in  my  Autobiography. 

It  was  after  that  lapse  that  I  cried  out,  "  Oh,  my 
Father!  may  Thy  hand  support  me,  and  my  prayer 
ever  be,  '  Hold  Thou  me  up,  and  I  shall  be  safe.' ': 
Yes,  thus  I  would  tell  the  drunkard,  he  can  stop  drink- 
ing by  the  power  of  his  will;  but  every  day  he  abstains 
in  his  own  strength,  in  the  midst  of  temptation  and 


460  "  LOUD,    HELP   ME  !  " 

the  slumbering  appetite,  he  does  it  at  a  risk;  but 
when  he  puts  forth  all  his  energies,  and  then  trusts  in 
God's  mercy  and  grace,  he  is  safe. 

In  my  experience,  I  have  found  illustrations  of  this 
fact.  One  gentleman  told  me  that  for  years  after  he 
signed  the  pledge,  he  would  walk  around  a  square 
rather  than  pass  a  certain  saloon  —  he  had  such  a 
horror  of  going  back  to  his  past  degraded  life.  "  But," 
said  he,  "  when  the  grace  of  God  came  into  my  heart, 
I  was  no  longer  afraid.  I  could  say,  '  Lord,  help  me ! ' 
and  was  safe." 

I  have  been  asked,  "  Do  you  believe  that  the  grace 
of  God  can  take  away  the  appetite  for  drink? " 
When  a  man  tells  me  the  appetite  is  all  gone,  I  think 
he  is  mistaken;  when  he  tells  me  the  desire  to  drink 
is  gone,  I  believe  him;  but,  in  my  opinion,  that  is  a 
different  thing.  I  may  have  no  desire,  —  in  fact,  the 
drink  may  be  hateful  to  me,  the  smell  of  it  offensive, 
I  may  loathe  it  with  an  absolute  loathing,  and  yet  the 
appetite  be  then  in  my  system. 

A  lady  wrote  me  once :  "  Will  you  dare  to  say  that 
the  grace  of  God  will  not  take  away  the  love  of  sin?  " 
I  say,  if  a  man  has  the  grace  of  God  in  his  heart,  he 
will  hate  sin,  and  that  which  tends  to  or  produces  sin ; 
but  the  appetite  for  drink  may  smoulder  in  his  system. 
That  is  physical,  not  moral;  something  that  may  be 
removed  or  relieved  by  medicine  perhaps,*  not  by  the 
grace  of  God,  except  by  a  miracle.  The  grace  of 
God  has  certain  functions,  but  the  grace  of  God  will 
not  prevent  drink  from  affecting  the  brain  and  nervous 
system,  if  a  man  drinks.  You  can  poison  a  Christian 
as  quickly  as  you  can  a  Hottentot.  If  two  men  —  the 
one  brimming  over  with  the  grace  of  God,  and  the 

*  I  have  little  faith  in  quack  nostrums. 


ABSURD   REPORTS.  461 

other  who  does  not  believe  in  the  grace  of  God  — 
take  prussic  acid,  they  will  both  go  down  together. 

We  are  accused  of  putting  total  abstinence  before 
the  gospel  in  the  reformation  of  the  drunkard.  I 
reply,  the  total-abstinence  pledge  must  reform  the 
drunkard,  whether  he  be  a  subject  of  the  grace  of 
God  or  not.  Every  child  knows  that  if  the  drunkard 
ceases  to  drink,  he  ceases  to  be  a  drunkard,  and  the 
grace  of  God  will  not  save  him  unless  he  abstains. 
It  is  a  physical  impossibility  for  a  confirmed  drunkard 
to  drink  intoxicating  liquor  and  continue  a  sober  man, 
except  by  such  a  miracle  as  the  world  has  never  seen. 
The  appetite  for  intoxicating  liquors,  when  once  fast- 
ened on  the  system,  produces,  in  frequent  cases,  a 
certain  something  —  a  mystery  to  us  who  have  no 
knowledge  of  physiology,  and  even  to  those  who  have 
—  that  responds  to  the  first  touch  of  alcohol,  and  the 
man  has  no  power  to  prevent  it.  I  will  speak  of  what 
I  know  by  my  own  experience. 

I  am  sometimes  asked,  "  Have  you  the  appetite 
now?  "  My  reported  replies  are,  some  of  them,  very 
absurd,  and  positively  wrong.  A  very  dear  friend 
says  that  I  cannot  pass  a  place  where  liquor  is  sold, 
without  a  return  of  the  old  appetite  in  all  its  force. 
Another  says  that  I  never  see  it  without  wanting  it. 
Some  one  writes :  "  John  B.  Gough  was  a  hard 
drinker  for  perhaps  fifteen  years  (this  is  a  mistake; 
only  seven  years  from  my  first  drinking  to  my  pledge 
of  abstinence).  We  know  scores  of  men  who  have 
been  perfect  sots  for  twice  as  many  years,  and  to-day 
they  are  free;  they  have  no  more  appetite  for  liquor 
than  a  babe,  and  the  very  sight  of  it  is  disgusting. 
Now,  why  should  not  Mr.  Gough  be  entitled  to  all 
that  comes  with  the  grace  of  God  as  well  as  they? 


462  THE   OLD   SENSATIONS. 

Certainly  God  is  not  disposed  to  leave  this  old  war- 
rior, whose  locks  are  whitened  with  thirty  years'  cam- 
paign, to  fight  the  enemy  in  his  own  bosom  still ;  and 
yet  we  believe  he  confesses  that  this  is  true ;  "  and  the 
writer  states,  in  addition :  "  These  men  are  free,  and 
he  is  in  bondage." 

Let  me  in  reply  to  these  statements  say,  that  the 
only  effect  produced  on  me  by  passing  a  saloon  is  dis- 
gust; and  the  appearance  of  it  at  the  table,  in  the 
cars,  or  anywhere,  is  unpleasant  to  me.  It  is  not  with 
fear  I  look  at  it,  but  with  distaste.  I  may  say  with 
others,  the  appetite  is  all  gone,  and  I  have  no  more 
desire  for  it  than  a  babe ;  but  if  I  take  a  swallow  of 
it — what  then?  will  it  produce  no  more  effect  on  me 
than  it  would  on  a  babe?  This  is  the  point  to  decide. 
Can  I,  who  was  once  an  intemperate  drinker,  ever  be 
a  moderate  drinker? 

"When  I  first  began  a  Christian  life  and  united  with 
the  church,  in  1845, 1  partook  of  the  communion  when 
intoxicating  wine  was  used.  I  have  reason  to  suppose 
it  was  the  wine  of  commerce.  I  once  told  the  minis- 
ter that  the  church  smelt  like  a  grog-shop  after  the 
ordinance,  and  that  the  odor  of  alcohol  was  on  every 
communicant's  breath.  I  partook  of  that  wine.  Did 
it  stir  up  in  me  a  raging  appetite  for  stimulants?  Not 
at  all ;  but  soon  after,  I  gave  up  the  use  of  intoxicating 
wine  at  the  communion,  and  have  passed  the  cup 
whenever  I  had  the  slightest  idea  that  alcoholic  wine 
was  used.  Was  I  afraid  of  it?  I  can  hardly  say 
that.  What  was  its  effect  on  me?  The  small  draught 
of  that  wine  warmed  my  stomach.  It  brought  back 
to  me  vividly  the  old  sensations,  though  it  did  not 
mount  to  my  head'  and  affect  my  brain;  yet  it  was  a 
reminder  of  the  old  bad  times,  and  called  up  the  asso- 


WHAT   IS   THE    "APPETITE"?  463 

ciations  connected  with  the  use  of  this  very  article  in 
another  way  than  as  a  religious  ordinance.  I  must 
acknowledge  that  the  glow  and  warmth  was  to  me  a 
gratification;  and  I  was  startled  at  the  pleasant  sen- 
sations produced  by  the  alcohol,  even  in  so  small  a 
quantity,  in  my  system.  I  could  not  help  that  if  I 
took  it,  and  I  determined  to  use  it  no  more. 

So  with  the  use  of  it  in  cooking  —  in  jellies,  cus- 
tards, and  so  on.  The  effect  on  me  was  not  at  once 
to  rouse  the  appetite,  but  to  produce  a  sensation  of 
pleasure  in  a  slight  degree,  and  with  that  sensation  an 
inclination  to  try  it  again.  Thus  I  gave  up  its  use  in 
cooking,  and  in  every  way,  shape,  and  manner,  ^ot 
that  I  felt  I  must  become  a  drunkard,  but  the  sensa- 
tions, while  in  one  sense  disagreeable,  were  associated 
in  my  mind  with  exhilaration,  and  the  delicious  thrill 
of  the  nervous  system,  that  to  me  was  once  so  fasci- 
nating —  which  a  man  of  different  temperament  knows 
no  more  of  than  a  deaf  man  knows  of  music. 

This  is  what  I  call  the  appetite;  and  if  I,  or  any 
other  person  with  a  similar  experience,  should  reason 
that  the  appetite  was  gone,  and  the  grace  of  God 
would  keep  us  from  falling  into  sin,  —  that  we  might 
use  this  article  so  many  good  Christians  were  using 
with  no  detriment,  only  using  it  in  moderation,  —  I 
firmly  believe  it  would  be  a  physical  impossibility,  and 
that  I  or  any  other  person  would  drift  again  into 
drunkenness.  So,  instead  of  boasting  that  the  grace 
of  God  has  taken  away  the  appetite,  I  say  the  grace 
of  God  enables  me  to  abstain  from  drinking,  and  I 
thank  Him  that  out  of  His  abounding  mercy  the  desire 
for  it  is  taken  away ;  and  at  the  risk  of  coming  under 
the  condemnation  of  a  Boston  D.D.,  who  says  that 
"a  man  who  cannot  partake  of  alcoholic  wine  at 


464  NO   EFFORT   OF   HIS   OWN. 

communion  without  arousing  his  appetite,  is  neither 
fit  for  the  communion  nor  benefited  by  it,"  I  shall,  as 
long  as  I  live,  refuse  positively  to  partake  of  the  wine 
of  commerce,  or  alcoholic  wine,  when  offered  at  the 
ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 

I  honestly  believe  that  if  I  wilfully  used  it  in  cooked 
food,  or  even  at  the  communion-table,  knowing  what 
I  do,  I  should  commit  sin.  I  often  pleasantly  and 
profitably  partake  of  the  Lord's  Supper  in  churches 
where  unintoxicating  wine  is  used,  and  I  hope  to  see 
the  day  when  alcoholic  wine  will  be  banished  from  the 
table  of  the  Lord,  and  the  pure  juice  of  the  grape 
will  be  substituted. 

The  idea  that  I  cannot  pass  a  grog-shop  without  a 
desire  to  partake  of  liquor,  or  that  I  take  with  me  a 
travelling  companion  as  a  precaution,  is  simply  ab- 
surd. I  saw,  the  other  day,  in  the  "  Congregation- 
alist,"  a  report  of  two  cases  in  which  the  appetite  had 
been  entirely  taken  away:  one  where  the  person  had 
been  for  years  a  confirmed  drunkard,  and  the  appetite 
was  taken  away  entirely,  with  no  effort  of  his  own. 
Now  I  do  not  deny  that,  but  simply  say,  if  such  is 
the  pure  fact,  it  was  a  miracle;  it  was  contrary  to 
physical  law.  Do  you  believe  that  the  inflamed  state 
of  the  stomach  as  showrn  to  us  in  Sewall's  plates, — 
the  congestion,  the  thickening  of  the  coats,  the  com- 
plete disorder  of  the  wrhole  nervous  system,  —  and  all 
the  irritation  that  causes  the  desire,  can  be  removed 
with  no  inconvenience  and  no  effort,  and  that  the 
whole  system  shall  become  as  free  from  all  appetite 
as  when  the  first  glass  was  taken?  I  do  not  believe 
it,  except  by  a  miracle;  and  I  say  to  those  who  assert 
that  such  a  miracle  has  been  performed :  "  You  of  all 
others  should  be  thankful  to  God,  every  hour  of  your 


PRAY   ON,   FIGHT   ON.  465 

remaining  life,  that  with  no  effort  you  have  been 
spared  the  struggle  and  the  fight  that  so  many  of 
your  less-privileged  brothers  have  endured.  If  such 
an  assumed  entire  removal  of  the  appetite  be  true, 
and  you  ever  fall,  with  no  remains  of  the  appetite  in 
your  system,  redeemed  from  all  necessity  of  a  battle 
that  often  leaves  your  less-favored  brother  weak  for 
days,  —  I  say,  if  you  ever  drink  again,  you  deserve 
no  sympathy  from  men  or  forgiveness  from  God." 
To-day  I  thank  God  for  the  experience  of  the  few 
days,  yes,  the  few  months,  after  I  signed  the  pledge ; 
for  perhaps,  had  I  not  gone  through  that  awful  fight, 
I  might  have  looked  with  contempt  at  the  conflict  of 
others,  and  despised  them  that  they  did  not  reach  the 
heights  of  perfect  freedom  with  no  effort  on  their 
part. 

These  cases  are  very  frequently  recorded.  I  would 
say  to  my  struggling  brother:  "Do  not  be  dismayed; 
pray  on,  fight  on.  Remember  when  Paul  prayed  that 
the  thorn  in  the  flesh  might  be  removed,  the  answer 
was,  '  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee,'  while  even  the 
thorn  was  not  removed ;  and  remember  also  that  He 
will  not  permit  any  who  trust  in  Him  to  be  con- 
founded or  put  to  shame."  Often  have  I  been  com- 
pelled to  reply  to  some  poor  struggling  souls  who 
are  discouraged  because  the  appetite  is  not  gone, 
who  listen  to  the  story  of  those  who  are  rejoicing  in 
perfect  freedom  with  no  effort  of  their  own,  and  are 
doubting  whether  they  are  outcasts  from  God's  mercy 
or  not.  I  would  hardly  refer  to  this,  were  it  not  for 
the  sake  of  such,  and  with  my  whole  heart  I  sympa- 
thize with  and  pray  for  them. 

When  a  man  says,  as  one  did  in  a  public  meeting, 
"  Gough  has  been  thirty  years  a  teetotaler,  and  he 


466  INHERITED  APPETITE. 

has  the  appetite  yet;  I  was  in  jail  a  year  ago,  and 
now  I  am  free,  for  the  appetite  has  been  taken  away," 
I  can  only  reply  to  such  a  statement  in  the  words  of 
the  king  of  Israel  to  Benhadad's  messenger:  "Let 
not  him  that  girdeth  on  his  harness  boast  himself  as 
he  that  taketh  it  off." 

"  This  kind  goeth  not  out  but  by  prayer  and  fast- 
ing," said  one  of  these  privileged  ones  to  me.  "I 
prayed  and  fasted,  and  the  appetite  was  taken  from 
me  in  a  moment." 

Read  portions  of  a  letter  I  received  from  a  sincere 
Christian  man  in  the  ministry: 

"My  grandfather  died  of  delirium  tremens.  My  mother  was  a 
drinker  all  her  life.  I  have  a  natural  appetite  for  drink.  When  a  boy 
of  ten,  I  determined  never  to  drink.  I  went  through  college ;  studied 
for  the  ministiy.  When  ordained,  I  sought  the  hardest  work  I  could 
find,  and  engaged  as  a  home  missionary  on  the  Western  frontier.  I  am 
very  much  worn  with  hard  work,  and  this  cruel  desire  for  drink  is  my 
torment.  Whenever  I  see  it,  I  want  it;  if  I  think  of  it,  I  want  it.  I 
have  covered  my  whole  life  with  prayer  as  a  garment.  I  have  fasted ;  I 
have  abstained  from  animal  food  for  two  years.  I  have  spent  hundreds 
of  dollars  out  of  my  meagre  income  at  water-cure  establishments ;  and, 
for  all  this,  I  tremble  every  day  on  the  awful  verge  of  the  precipice  of 
indulgence." 

That  man  is  a  hero  whom  I  honor;  and  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  angels  look  with  interest  on  such  a 
struggle.  Shall  I  discourage  him  by  intimating  that 
he  has  none  of  the  real,  genuine  grace  of  God  in  his 
heart?  No!  a  thousand  times  no!  I  will  tell  him, 
as  I  did  in  a  letter  I  wrote  him,  not  to  be  dismayed, 
but  to  "  fight  the  good  fight,"  "  looking  unto  Jesus." 

Dr.  Henry  A.  Reynolds  said  at  the  International 
Conference  in  Philadelphia,  in  1876 : 

"  I  am  one  of  those  unfortunate  men  who  have  an  inherited  appetite 
for  strong  drink.  I  love  liquor  to-night  as  well  as  an  infant  loves 
milk." 


"GOD   HELP   ME,   I  LIKE   IT."  467 

Who  will  say  that  Dr.  Reynolds  has  not  the  grace 
of  God  in  his  heart?  But  he  says: 

"  The  love  for  intoxicants  is  as  much  a  part  of  my  make-up  as  my 
hand." 

But  he  also  says : 

"  I  stand  here  to-night  believing  myself  to  be  a  monument  of  God's 
grace." 

I  conversed,  not  a  month  since,  with  a  converted 
drunkard  and  liquor-seller  who  has  an  inherited  appe- 
tite. With  tears  in  his  eyes,  he  told  me  how  he  strug- 
gled; how  the  smell  of  it  affected  him;  how,  when 
despondent  and  weary,  his  thoughts  would  turn  to 
the  drink.  But  he  said: 

"I  believe  God  will  keep  me;  for  though  He  does  not  take  the  appe- 
tite away  in  answer  to  my  prayers,  He  has  given  me  grace  to  resist  the 
temptation  for  years,  and  I  believe  He  will  to  the  end." 

Another  said  to  me: 

"  I  have  fought  the  appetite  for  sixteen  years.  I  dreamed  the  other 
night  that  I  drank  a  glass  of  liquor,  and,  God  help  me !  I  liked  it ;  and  I 
like  it  now,  waking  or  sleeping,  —  at  times  I  long  for  it." 

These  men  are  all  men  of  prayer,  and  perhaps  pray 
more  earnestly  than  you  or  I  ever  did;  but  they  are 
left  to  fight,  and,  thanks  to  the  Great  Captain  of  our 
salvation,  they  will  fight  to  the  victory. 

I  have  a  letter  before  me  from  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  who  lost  his  church  by  his  intemperance.  A 
few  of  his  members  clung  to  him,  and  choosing  him 
for  their  minister,  started  a  new  enterprise  in  a  hall. 
Many  put  confidence  in  his  repentance  and  reform. 
The  new  church  was  prosperous.  The  pastor  was 
earnest  and  sincere.  The  Sunday-school  was  flourish- 
ing. The  prospects  were  bright.  Gradually  he  was 
gaining  the  confidence  of  the  people  of  the  town,  as 


468  "l  AM  HEART-BROKEN." 

the  increasing  congregation  declared.  This  went  on 
for  a  year  or  more.  The  minister  was  appointed  on 
a  committee  for  procuring  a  Sabbath-school  library, 
and  was  deputed  to  go  to  the  city  to  select  said 
library,  the  other  gentlemen  of  the  committee  having 
perfect  confidence  in  his  judgment.  I  now  quote  from 
his  letter: 

"  I  had  no  desire  for  drink;  the  appetite  was  all  gone.  I  was  perfectly 

free.     I  went  to ,  and  called  on  an  old  classmate  for  information 

as  to  the  best  method  of  procuring  the  books  I  needed,  as  I  was  to  pay 
cash  for  them  to  the  amount  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  which  I  had 
with  me.  My  friend  invited  me  to  dinner.  He  was  a  wine-drinker  — 
strictly  moderate.  He  asked  me  to  take  a  glass  of  wine.  I  had  no  desire 
for  it ;  and,  thinking  I  might  take  one  glass,  and  feeling  perhaps  a  little 
sensitive  at  the  thought  that  my  classmate  might  suppose  I  could  not 
take  one  glass  with  him,  I  did  take  that  glass,  then  another.  How  I  got 
out  of  the  house  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  woke  from  a  drunken  sleep  four  days 
after,  ragged,  penniless :  the  money  held  in  trust  for  the  books  all  gone ; 

and  now  I  am  ruined.     I  dare  not  go  back  to .     What  shall  I  do? 

Where  shall  I  go?    I  am  heartbroken." 

Speaking  from  a  deep  experience  and  wide  obser- 
vation, I  would  say  to  you,  my  reformed  friend,  "  Let 
him  that  thinketh  he  standeth  take  heed  lest  he  fall." 
All  the  powers  of  earth  and  hell,  combined,  could  not 
have  wrecked  this  man,  had  he  not  drank.  All  the 
rest  was  the  consequence  of  that  act,  and  the  grace 
of  God  did  not  prevent  it.  He  said  he  had  no  desire 
for  it,  and  thought  he  could  take  one  glass  with  im- 
punity. There  is  the  mistake, —  the  desire  for  it  was 
gone,  but  the  appetite  remained,  —  just  as  the  crouch- 
ing pet  tiger  licked  playfully  the  man's  hand  till  the 
blood  was  tasted;  and  then  hold  him  who  can?  The 
only  safety  for  the  reformed  drunkard  is  total  absti- 
nence, let  others  say  what  they  will.  Pray  God  to 
keep  you  from  drinking,  then  the  drink  has  no  power 
over  you.  But  if  you  drink,  the  grace  of  God  can- 


PLEDGE  AND  THE  CROSS.          469 

not  save  you,  unless  by  a  miracle.  The  days  of  strug- 
gling will  soon  be  over,  and  we  shall  say,  "  Thanks 
be  to  God  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  seen  extracts  from 
a  work  written  by  Mrs.  S.  M.  J.  Henry,  one  of  the 
most  devoted  and  active  of  the  noble  army  of  Chris- 
tian women  now  engaged  in  the  cause.  I  commend 
most  heartily  the  book  published  by  the  National 
Temperance  Society,  58  Reade  Street,  New  York, 
entitled  "  The  Pledge  and  the  Cross."  The  author 
presents  the  case  fairly  and  most  lucidly.  I  give  but 
one  sentence.  Speaking  of  a  man  who  had  fallen 
after  his  conversion,  Mrs.  Henry  says : 

"Now,  what  was  the  trouble?  The  failure  was  not  in  God's  grace, 
nor  in  the  sincerity  of  the  man,  but  in  an  unsound  doctrine  —  a  simple 
human  claim  for  God's  grace  which  He  has  nowhere  seconded :  in  claim- 
ing that  it  will  do  a  work  which  is  just  as  much  out  of  its  province  as  to 
straighten  a  crooked  bone,  or  eye ;  or  to  hew  stone,  and  draw  lumber  to 
supply  the  needy  with  a  home.  The  bone  or  eye  may  be  straightened, 
the  stone  hewn,  the  house  builded,  if  the  right  means  are  employed ;  so 
the  man  may  be  carried  over  the  crisis  of  his  reformation,  if  God's  good 
and  abundant  grace  can  find  a  channel ;  if  His  spirit  can  find  a  medium 
in  some  loving,  patient  Christian  heart  and  hand  that  will  furnish  the 
practical  help  just  at  the  tune  it  is  needed  —  in  the  man's  hour  of  ex- 
tremity." 

29 


CHAPTEK  XXXm. 

MODERATE   DRINKING  AND   TOTAL   ABSTINENCE. 

The  Moderate  Drinker  —  The  Moderate  Drinker  of  Stockholm  —  Gough 
and  his  Moderate-drinking  Friend  —  Dr.  B.  "W.  Richardson  on  Mod- 
erate Drinking  —  Alcohol  not  included  in  the  Scheme  of  Life  —  The 
Most  Helpless  Period  passed  without  it  —  The  Four  Stages  of  Life  — 
Voice  of  Science  —  Stimulation  Harmful  to  Health  —  Foods  and  Alco- 
hol—"The  Alcoholic  Stages"  — "The  Devil  and  the  Peacock"  — 
Wine  and  Civilization  —  Wine-drinking  Nations  —  Wine  only  Dirty 
Water  —  Total  Abstinence  for  the  Sake  of  Others  —  Abusing  the 
"  Moderate  Drinker  "  —  A  Dinner  without  Wine  —  The  Right,  the 
Wrong,  the  Doubtful  —  A  Touching  Story  —  The  Idolized  Son  —  Wine 
at  New  Year's  Calls  —  Misnamed  Friends. 

PROPOSE  giving  several  reasons  why 
I  commend  total  abstinence  to  the  moder- 
ate drinker.  A  moderate  drinker  is  a  per- 
son who  can  drink  without  intoxication. 
A  gentleman  once  said  to  me.  "  Six 
glasses  of  whiskey  toddy  in  a  day  is  not 
excess,  if  I  can  stand  it."  There  is  no 
virtue  in  moderation,  if  this  is  the  crite- 
rion by  which  we  judge.  Where  can  you 
draw  the  line  between  moderation  and  excess?  I  have 
spoken  of  this  on  another  page,  and  will  only  state  a 
few  facts  illustrating  the  various  opinions  or  judg- 
ments of  moderation. 

Dr.  Most,  a  German  physician,  in  the  "Encylc.  Med. 
and  Chir."  gives  the  case  of  a  man  in  his  seventieth 

470 


A  MODERATE    DRINKER.  471 

year,  who  for  twenty  years  had  drank,  daily,  upwards 
of  a  quart  of  rum,  or  nearly  forty  hogsheads  in  all. 

Professer  Huss  thus  describes  the  ordinary  life  of  a 
moderate  drinker  among  the  laboring  classes  of  Stock- 
holm: 

"  Rising  at  five  or  six  in  the  morning,  according  to  the  season,  he 
takes  a  cup  of  coffee  mixed  with  a  glass  of  brandy,  containing  from  two 
to  three  ounces  of  the  spirit,  which  is  there  usually  prepared  from  pota- 
toes. He  then  attends  to  his  occupations  till  eight  o'clock,  when  he  takes 
breakfast  and  a  second  glass  of  brandy.  At  his  dinner,  at  noon,  he  has 
another  glass,  or  more  —  usually  a  glass  and  a  half.  At  five  or  six  he 
again  has  a  glass;  and,  lastly,  with  his  supper,  at  eight  or  nine,  still 
another.  He  thus  consumes  from  five  to  five  and  a  half  glasses  regularly 
every  day,  enjoying  all  the  time  a  character  among  his  comrades  as  a 
person  of  great  moderation,  who  scarcely  takes  what  is  requisite  for  an 
individual  in  his  station.  Even  if  he  becomes  intoxicated  on  two  days 
of  eveiy  week,  the  Saturdays  and  Sundays,  he  does  not  acquire  the 
reputation  of  a  drunkard." 

Men  have  been  known  to  swallow  from  sixteen  to 
twenty  glasses  daily,  without  showing  signs  of  intoxi- 
cation. I  have  known  men  who  could  and  did  con- 
sume a  quantity  of  liquor  every  day,  one-half  of  which 
would  make  me  drunk  and  incapable,  while  they  were 
perfectly  sober,  apparently;  at  any  rate  they  were 
moderate  drinkers,  and  it  would  have  been  termed  a 
libel  to  call  them  drunkards.  I  once  met  a  man  in 
the  streets  of  Boston,  who  hailed  me  with  — 

"Well,  Gough,  how  are  ye?" 

"Quite  well;  how  are  you?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  going  on  in  the  same  old  jog." 

"  Are  you  drinking  yet?  " 

"  Yes,  just  about  the  same  as  I  did  in  the  old  times. 
You  see,  Gough,  I  had  a  mind  of  my  own.  I  could 
always  drink  you  down,  and  I  do  not  think  I  was  ever 
drunk  in  my  life." 

He  was  one  of  my  old  drinking  companions,  and 


472  FOUR    STAGES    OF   LIFE. 

could  always  consume  double,  yes,  treble  tbe  quantity 
I  could.  I  became  a  wreck  in  trying  to  do  as  he  did; 
and  he,  at  the  time  I  saw  him,  fifteen  years  after  I  had 
signed  the  pledge,  was  a  reputable  moderate  drinker; 
drinking  in  all  those  years,  day  after  day,  what  would 
have  destroyed  another,  body  and  soul. 

On  moderation,  I  cannot  speak  to  you  in  the  lan- 
guage of  science,  but  I  rejoice  there  are  so  many  who 
can  and  will.  Among  the  foremost  is  Dr.  B.  W. 
Richardson.  To  him  and  his  admirable  work,  "Mod- 
erate Drinking,  For  and  Against,  from  Scientific 
Points  of  View,"  I  refer  you.  I  can  commend  total 
abstinence  for  the  moderate  drinker  on  the  ground 
that  every  drunkard  began  by  moderation,  and  became 
what  he  is  by  attempting  to  be  a  moderate  drinker 
and  failing.  On  the  ground  of  its-  being  utterly  use- 
less for  a  healthy  system,  I  refer  you  to  the  scientist, 
and  quote  a  few  extracts  from  Dr.  Richardson's 
work : 

11  Science  declares  that  alcohol  is  not  included  in  the  scheme  of  life. 
Try  a  man  by  himself.  Every  child  of  woman  born,  if  it  be  not  per- 
verted, lives  without  alcohol,  grows  up  without  it ;  spends  —  and  this  is 
a  vital  point  —  spends  the  very  happiest  part  of  its  life  without  it ;  gains 
its  growing  strength  and  vitality  without  it;  feels  no  want  for  it.  The 
course  of  its  life  is,  at  the  most,  on  an  average  of  the  best  lives  —  sixty 
years ;  of  which  the  first  fifteen,  in  other  words  the  first  fourth,  are  the 
most  dangerous ;  yet  it  goes  through  that  fourth  without  the  use  of  this 
agent.  But  if  in  the  four  stages  of  life  it  can  go  through  the  first  and 
the  most  critical  stage  without  alcohol,  why  cannot  it  traverse  the  re- 
maining three?  Is  Nature  so  unwise  in  her  doings,  so  capricious,  so 
uncertain,  that  she  withholds  a  giver  of  life  from  the  helpless,  and  sup- 
plies it  only  to  the  helpful?  Impossible!  She  provides  for  the  helpless 
at  once  a  food  and  a  drink  —  their  mother's  milk. 

"  Further,  there  have  been  many  men  and  women,  millions  and  mill- 
ions of  them,  who  have  gone  on  through  the  four  stages  of  life,  from  the 
first  to  the  last,  without  resort  to  this  agent  for  the  support  of  life.  Some 
men,  forming  whole  nations,  have  never  heard  of  it;  some  have  heard 
of  it,  and  have  abjured  its  use.  In  England  and  America  at  this  time 
there  are  probably  nearly  upon  six  millions  of  persons  who  have  abjured 


DECLARATION   OF    SCIENCE.  473 

this  agent.  Do  they  fall  or  fail  in  value  of  life  from  the  abjuration?  The 
evidence,  as  we  shall  distinctly  see  by  and  by,  is  all  the  other  way.  There 
are,  lastly,  some  who  are  forced  to  live  without  the  use  of  this  agent. 
Do  they  fall  or  die  in  consequence?  There  is  not  a  single  instance  in 
illustration. 

"  On  all  these  points,  science,  when  she  is  questioned  earnestly  and 
interpreted  justly,  is  decisive  and  firm ;  and  if  you  question  her  in  yet 
another  direction,  she  is  not  less  certain.  You  ask  her  for  a  comparison 
of  alcohol  and  of  man,  in  respect  to  the  structure  of  both,  and  her  evi- 
dence is  as  the  sun  at  noon  in  its  clearness.  She  has  taken  the  body  of 
man  to  pieces ;  she  has  learned  the  composition  of  its  structure  —  skin, 
muscle,  bone,  viscera,  brain,  nervous  cord,  organs  of  sense.  She  knows 
of  what  these  parts  are  formed,  and  she  knows  from  whence  the  compo- 
nents came.  She  finds  in  the  muscles  fibrine ;  it  came  from  the  fibrine 
of  flesh,  or  from  the  gluten  or  albumen  of  the  plants  on  which  the  man 
has  fed.  She  finds  tendon  and  cartilage  and  earthy  matter  of  the  skele- 
ton; they  were  from  the  vegetable  kingdom.  She  finds  water  in  the 
body  in  such  abundance  that  it  makes  up  seven  parts  out  of  eight  of  the 
whole ;  and  that  she  knows  the  source  of  readily  enough.  She  finds  iron ; 
that  she  traces  from  the  earth.  She  finds  fat ;  and  that  she  traces  to 
sugar  and  starch.  In  short,  she  discovers,  in  whatever  structure  she 
searches,  the  origin  of  the  structure.  But,  as  a  natural  presence,  she 
finds  no  ardent  spirit  there  in  any  part  or  fluid.  Nothing  made  from 
spirit.  Did  she  find  either,  she  would  say  the  body  is  diseased,  and,  it 
may  be,  was  killed  by  that  which  is  found. 

"  Sometimes  in  the  bodies  of  men  she  discovers  the  evidences  of  some 
conditions  that  are  not  natural.  She  compares  these  bodies  with  the 
bodies  of  other  men,  or  with  the  bodies  of  inferior  animals,  as  sheep  and 
oxen,  and  finds  that  the  unnatural  appearances  are  peculiar  to  persons 
who  have  taken  alcohol,  and  are  indications  of  new  structural  changes 
which  are  not  proper,  and  which  she  calls  disease.  Thus,  by  two  tests, 
science  tries  the  comparison  between  alcohol  and  man.  She  finds  in  the 
body  no  structure  made  from  alcohol ;  she  finds  in  the  healthy  body  no 
alcohol ;  she  finds  in  those  who  have  taken  alcohol  changes  of  the  struct- 
ure, and  those  are  changes  of  disease.  By  all  these  proofs  she  declares 
alcohol  to  be  entirely  alien  to  the  structure  of  man.  It  does  not  build  up 
the  body ;  it  undermines  and  destroys  the  building. 

"  One  step  more.  If  you  question  science  on  the  comparison  which 
exists  between  foods  and  alcohol,  she  gives  you  facts  on  every  hand.  She 
shows  you  a  natural  and  all-suificient  and  standard  food.  She  calls  it 
milk.  She  takes  it  to  pieces ;  she  says  it  is  made  up  of  caseine,  for  the 
construction  of  muscular  and  other  active  tissues ;  of  sugar  and  fat,  for 
supplying  fuel  to  the  body  for  the  animal  warmth ;  of  salts  for  the  earthy, 
and  of  water  for  the  liquid  parts.  This  is  a  perfect  standard.  Holds  it 
any  comparison  with  alcohol?  Not  a  jot.  The  comparison  is  the  same 
with  all  other  natural  foods. 


AN  ARAB   LEGEND. 

"  Man,  going  forth  to  find  food  for  his  wants,  discovers  it  in  various 
substances,  but  only  naturally,  in  precisely  such  substances,  and  in  the 
same  proportions  of  such  substances,  as  exist  in  the  standard  food  on 
which  he  first  fed.  Alcohol  alien  to  the  body  of  man,  is  alike  alien  to 
the  natural  food  of  man." 

On  the  "  Alcoholic  Stages,"  Dr.  Richardson  says : 

"  A  man  or  woman  sitting  down,  or  standing  up,  if  you  like,  to  drink 
wine  or  other  stimulant,  always  starts  on  the  way  that  leads  through  four 
stages  toward  an  easily  realizable  destination.  Stage  one  is  that  gentle 
stimulation  called  moderate  excitement,  or  support.  Stage  two  is  eleva- 
tion —  whatever  that  may  mean.  It  is  not  elevation  of  character ;  of 
that  I  am  satisfied.  Stage  three  is  confusion  of  mind,  action,  and  deed, 
with  sad  want  of  elevation.  Stage  four  is  complete  concatenation  of  cir- 
cumstances, —  all  the  stages  perfectly  matured,  the  journey  completed, 
with  the  traveller  lying  down,  absolutely  prostrated  in  mind  and  in  body. 
The  destination  is  reached,  and  found  to  be  a  human  being  dead  drunk 
and  incapable." 

Some  years  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  a  friend 
that  seems  so  apposite  to  this  as  to  be  quoted  for  an 

illustration.     It  is  as  follows : 

"  QUEBEC. 

"DEAR  SIR:  There  are  persons  whom  it  is  difficult  to  persuade  that 
the  first  glass  drank  by  an  individual  who  will  be  drunk  by  taking  any 
larger  quantity  affects  such  individuals  so  as  to  produce  any  degree  of 
drunkenness.  I  differ  with  such  people,  and  think  the  following,  from  a 
small  work  on  the  natural  history  of  birds,  in  possession  of  one  of  my 
little  girls,  an  apt  illustration,  of  which  you  are  at  liberty  to  make  such 
use  as  you  please.  I  am,  &c.,  . 

"THE  DEVIL  AND  THE  PEACOCK. 

"  The  Arabs,  says  Bochart,  denominate  the  peacock  as  a  bird  of  ill- 
omen,  for  the  following  reasons :  it  was  the  cause  of  the  first  entrance  of 
the  Devil  into  Paradise,  and  the  expulsion  of  Adam  and  Eve.  They 
also  relate  that  the  Devil  watered  the  vine  with  the  blood  of  four  ani- 
mals :  fh'st,  with  that  of  a  peacock ;  and  when  the  vine  began  to  put 
forth  leaves,  with  the  blood  of  an  ape ;  when  the  grapes  began  to  appear, 
with  that  of  a  lion ;  and  lastly,  when  they  were  quite  ripe,  with  that  of  a 
hog ;  which  is  the  reason,  say  they,  that  the  wine-bibber  at  first  struts 
about  like  a  peacock,  then  begins  to  dance,  play,  and  make  grimaces 
like  an  ape,  then  rages  like  a  lion,  and,  lastly,  lies  down  in  a  ditch 
like  a  hosr." 


DETERIORATION   OF   NATIONS.  475 

In  reply  to  the  statement  that  wine  has  been  the 
promoter  of  civilization,  and  the  source  of  inspiration 
to  poet  and  artist,  Dr.  Richardson  says: 

"  It  is  said  that  the  use  of  wine  and  its  allies  has  been  the  source  of 
the  power  of  the  most  powerful  nations.  It  is  said  that  the  wine-cup  has 
been  the  fountain  of  that  wit  and  poetry  and  artistic  wisdom,  if  I  may 
use  the  term,  which  has  made  the  illustrious  men  of  the  world  so  illus- 
trious and  so  generally  useful  as  they  have  been  to  the  world.  Take 
away  the  wine-cup,  it  is  argued,  and  the  whole  intellectual  life  must 
needs  become  '  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable.'  It  were  indeed  a  pity  if  this 
were  the  lookout  of  total  abstinence,  a  second  deluge  of  water,  with 
not  so  much  as  a  graceful  dove  and  an  olive-branch  to  cheer  the  track- 
less waste.  It  were  indeed  a  pity  of  pities  if  this  were  the  final  lookout 
of  total  abstinence  in  the  intellectual  sphere.  Can  it  be  that  all  intel- 
lectual energy  and  hilarity  must  die  out  with  the  abolition  of  the  wine- 
cup?  

"  Science,  ever  fair,  says  that  some  nations  and  wonderful  peoples 
that  have  lived  have  been  wine-drinkers  at  certain  periods  of  their  his- 
tory. But  she  draws  also  this  most  important  historical  lesson,  that  the 
great  nations  were,  as  a  rule,  water-drinkers  purely,  until  they  became 
great;  then  they  took  to  wine  and  other  luxuries,  and  soon  became 
little.  Up  to  the  time  of  Cyrus,  the  Persians  were  water-drinkers ;  they 
became  all-powerful,  and  then  also  became  such  confirmed  wine-drinkers 
that,  if  they  had  some  great  duty  to  perform,  they  discussed  the  details 
of  it  when  inflamed  with  wine,  and  rejected  the  judgment  or  revised  it 
when  they  had  become  sober,  and  vice  versa.  Surely  this  was  the  acme 
of  perfection  as  a  test  of  wine.  Curiously,  it  didn't  answer.  With  its 
luxury  Persia  succumbed,  fell  into  hands  of  less  luxurious  conquerors, 
and,  like  a  modern  rake,  found  its  progress  anything  but  promising  hi 
the  end. 

"  The  Greeks  in  their  first  and  simple  days  were  clothed  in  victory 
over  men  and  over  nature.  They  grew  powerful ;  they  sang  and  danced, 
and  all  but  worshipped  wine ;  but  it  did  not  sustain  them  in  their  gran- 
deur, as  it  ought  to  have  done  if  the  theory  of  such  sustainment  be 
correct.  The  Roman  rule  became  overwhelming  out  of  the  simplicity 
of  its  first  life.  It  rose  into  luxury,  and  made  wine  almost  a  god.  But 
Rome  fell.  Wine  did  not  sustain  it.  It  is  all  through  history  the  same. 
There  is  not  an  instance,  when  we  come  to  the  analysis  of  fact  and  cir- 
cumstance, in  which  wine  has  not  been  to  nations,  as  to  man  individu- 
ally, a  mocker.  It  has  been  the  death  of  nations.  It  has  swept  down 
nations,  as  it  sweeps  down  men,  in  the  prime  of  their  life,  and  in  the 
midst  of  their  glory." 


476  THE   POETIC   DKEAM. 

And  thus  Dr.  Richardson  destroys  the  poetic  dream 
of  sparkling,  ruby  wine: 

"  Science  tells  us  that  where  one  or  two  disguises  are  removed,  even 
blood  is  water ;  as  to  wine,  that  is  mere  dirty  water,  —  sixteen  bottles, 
or  cups,  or  any  other  equal  measures  of  water,  pure  and  simple,  from  the 
clouds  and  earth,  to  one  poor  bottle  or  cup  of  a  burning,  fiery  liquid 
which  has  been  called  ardent  spirit,  or  spirit  of  wine,  or  alcohol,  with 
some  little  coloring  matter,  in  certain  cases  a  little  acid,  in  other  cases  a 
little  sugar,  and  in  still  other  cases  a  little  cinder  stuff. 

"  It  is  a  pitiful  fall,  but  it  is  such,  and  science  not  only  declares  it,  but 
proves  it  so  to  be.  A  pitiful  let-down,  that  men  throughout  all  ages  who 
have  called  themselves  wine-drinkers  have  been  water-drinkers  after  all ; 
that  men  who  have  called  themselves  wine-merchants  have  been  water- 
merchants  ;  that  men  who  have  bought  and  still  buy  wines  at  fabulous 
prices  have  been  buying  and  still  are  buying  water!  A  dozen  of  cham- 
pagne, bought  at  a  cost  of  five  pounds  ten  shillings,  very  choice,  —  I  am 
speaking  by  the  book,  —  consisted,  when  it  was  all  measured  out,  of 
three  hundred  ounces  (or  fifteen  pints)  of  fluid,  of  which  fluid  thirteen 
pints  and  a  half  were  pure  water,  the  rest  ardent  spirit,  with  a  little 
carbonic  acid,  some  coloring  matter  like  burnt  sugar,  a  light  flavoring 
ether  in  almost  infinitesimal  proportion,  and  a  trace  of  cinder  stuff. 
Science,  looking  on  dispassionately,  records  merely  the  facts.  If  she 
thinks  that  five  pounds  ten  shillings  was  a  heavy  sum  to  pay  for  thirteen 
pints  and  a  half  of  water  and  one  pint  and  a  half  of  spirit,  she  says 
nothing ;  she  leaves  that  to  the  men  and  women  of  sentiment  and  pas- 
sionate feeling,  buyers  and  sellers  and  drinkers  all  round." 

I  appeal  to  the  moderate  drinker  on  a  higher  ground 
and  a  nobler  motive  than  self-preservation.  I  ask  him 
to  abstain  for  the  sake  of  others.  As  a  Christian, 
what  is  your  influence  over  the  young  man  drifting  to 
ruin  through  the  drink?  You  urge  him  to  abstain. 
If  he  does  as  you  bid  him,  he  is  safe ;  if  he  attempts 
to  follow  you,  he  is  lost.  You  cannot  say,  "  Come 
with  us,  and  we  will  do  you  good."  You  and  he 
must  separate  here ;  he  cannot  and  dare  not  go  with 
you  if  he  would  be  safe. 

We  are  often  accused  of  abusing  the  moderate 
drinker;  I  have  no  disposition  to  abuse  or  condemn; 
but  in  view  of  the  terrible  evil  we  fight,  and  the 


"NOT   EXACTLY  APOLOGIZE."  477 

knowledge  that  all  this  evil  must  come  to  an  end 
when  the  present  race  of  the  intemperate  shall  die 
out,  if  there  are  no  more  made,  and  that  the  drunk- 
ards are  all  drawn  from  the  ranks  of  moderation,  and 
when  death  makes  gaps  in  their  ranks  they  are  filled 
by  recruits  from  the  army  of  moderate  drinkers,  —  we 
must  speak  out,  and  implore  the  moderate  drinker  to 
give  up  his  gratification  for  the  sake  of  others.  I 
have  never  accused  them  of  wilfully  doing  harm.  I 
simply  ask  them  to  investigate,  and  to  test  their 
position. 

I  was  once  entertained  by  a  gentleman  as  an  invited 
guest.  It  was  a  large  dinner-party,  composed  of 
several  magistrates,  a  member  of  parliament,  one  or 
two  ministers  of  the  gospel,  and  others,  —  altogether 
a  very  intelligent  and  intellectual  company.  At  the 
table  I  noticed  that  the  host  became  rather  uneasy, 
and  looked  nervously  up  and  down  the  board.  At 
last  he  said,  hesitatingly: 

"  Gentlemen,  I  know  not  but  I  ought  to  apologize; 
not  exactly  apologize,  but  explain  the  absence  of  wine. 
It  is  well  known  that  I  present  wine,  and  some  of  you 
may  have  expected  wine,  or  toddy,  and  may  be  disap- 
pointed when  I  tell  you  that  I  shall  provide  neither 
wine  nor  toddy  to-day.  I  ordered  the  butler  to  decant 
no  wine.  I  do  this  in  honor  of  Mr.  Gough,  whom  you 
are  invited  to  meet.  We  all  know  his  practice,  that 
he  is  a  total  abstainer;  and  though  we  may  not  agree 
with  him  in  all  points,  yet,  out  of  compliment  to  him, 
we  will  have  no  wine  to-day." 

The  countenances  of  several  of  the  guests  fell,  and 
a  damper  seemed  to  be  shut  down  on  the  spirits  of 
the  company  at  this  announcement  that  there  would 
be  no  artificial  stimulants  to  keep  up  their  spirits.  I 


478  SETTLE   THE   DOUBT. 

was  wofully  embarrassed,  and  felt  compelled  to  say 
something. 

I  did  not  wish  to  sit  there  as  a  block  to  their  enjoy- 
ment, or  a  wet  blanket  on  the  sociability  of  the  com- 
pany, so  I  said: 

"  Sir,  I  regret  that  you  should  have  made  any 
change  in  the  customary  entertainment  of  your 
guests,  solely  out  of  compliment  to  me,  or  deference 
to  my  opinions.  I  will  change  no  customary  ar- 
rangement at  my  own  table  to  suit  any  man's  whims, 
prejudices,  or  vagaries.  If  it  is  right  to  place  wine 
and  toddy  on  the  table,  place  it  there !  I  would,  if  I 
knew  it  was  right  to  do  it.  I  know  it  is  right  to  pro- 
vide water  for  my  guests,  and  I  do  it.  So,  sir,  if  you 
know  it  is  right,  place  the  wine  before  your  guests. 
If  it  is  wrong,  never  place  it  there  under  any  consid- 
eration, even  at  the  demand  or  request  of  your  guests. 
If  you  have  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  the  right  or 
wrong  of  the  act  of  presenting  wine  or  toddy  at  your 
table,  or  to  your  friends,  abstain  from  presenting  it 
till  you  have  settled  the  doubt." 

This  is  what  I  ask  every  moderate  drinker  to  do. 
I  do  not  abuse,  nor  do  I  think  any  moderate  drinker 
intends  to  make  mischief  or  to  wrong  any  human 
being  by  giving  wine;  but  harm  is  done.  I  am  no 
judge  of  my  neighbor;  God  is  the  Judge.  I  only 
ask,  "  Can  any  good  arise  from  the  use  of  intoxi- 
cating drinks  as  a  beverage,  and  may  there  not  be 
harm?" 

A  lady  told  me  the  following  touching  story  in  her 
experience.  She  had  a  son,  her  pride,  her  joy;  her 
heart  was  bound  up  in  her  boy  —  so  clean,  so  sweet 
and  lovely,  and  withal  so  manly. 

One  New  Year's  morning  he  came  into  the  break- 


THE   NEW-YEAR   CALLS.  479 

fast-room,  full  of  life  and  youthful  beauty,  and  giving 
her  the  morning  kiss,  said: 

"  A  happy  New  Year  to  you,  mother,  darling !  " 
After  breakfast,  he  sprang  up,  saying: 
"  Now,  mother  dear,  for  the  New  Year  calls !    You 
know  I  have  never  before  really  made  any,  but  I  shall 
make  a  business  of  it  to-day.     Good-bye;    again  a 
happy  New  Year  to  you!  " 

He  went  out;  and  said  she,  "I  stood  in  the  bay- 
window,  and  saw  him  walking  down  the  street.  I 
was  proud  of  him,  my  son,  eighteen  years  of  age; 
tall,  shapely,  clean,  sweet.  I  watched  him,  my 
mother's  heart  yearning  to  him  in  tenderest  love. 
After  he  had  turned  the  corner,  I  still  looked  at  the 
spot  where  I  had  last  seen  him.  I  returned  to  my 
household  duties,  and  all  day  I  was  thinking  of  my 
boy.  I  heard  a  hurried  or  unsteady  ring  at  the  door 
in  the  evening,  and  as  the  servant  opened  it,  I  heard 
some  confused  noises.  I  rushed  to  the  hall,  and 
found  two  young  gentlemen,  evidently  flushed  with 
wine,  bearing  between  them  the  helpless  form  of  my 
boy  —  my  boy !  I  asked  them  to  lift  him  into  the 
drawing-room,  and  leave  me,  thanking  them  as  well 
as  I  was  able  for  their  trouble.  Then  I  sat  down  by 
my  boy's  side,  and  lifted  his  head  in  my  lap ;  and  oh, 
how  I  did  cry!  I  thought  my  heart  would  break. 
His  lips,  that  I  had  kissed  in  the  morning,  so  pure, 
so  sweet  —  swollen,  dry,  and  feverish;  his  hair  damp 
and  matted.  His  clear  skin  actually  seemed  coarse; 
his  eyes  half-closed,  his  breath  poisoning  the  air. 
Oh,  so  offensive!  His  clothes  disarranged.  Yes, 
there  he  lay,  breathing  heavily,  utterly  unconscious — 
helplessly  drunk.  My  boy !  my  beautiful  boy !  What 
enemy  hath  done  this?  Oh,  had  it  been  some  vile, 


480  FALSE   FKIENDSHIP. 

vindictive  enemy  who  had  thus  smitten  him,  had  it 
been  some  cruel  foe  of  mine  that  had  dealt  me  this 
dreadful  blow,  it  would  have  been  a  comfort  com- 
pared with  the  terrible  conviction  that  this  was  the 
work  of  his  friends !  He  had  only  been  with  friends. 
Friends  had  sent  him  home  to  his  mother.  Friends 
had  brought  him  to  his  mother's  door.  Oh,  if  this  is 
the  work  of  my  boy's  friends,  how  shall  I  stand  be- 
tween him  and  harm !  That  night  of  agony  I  shall 
never  forget.  That  was  his  first  intoxication,  but 
not  his  last.  His  friends  laughed  at  him  for  being 
overcome,  and  presented  him  with  drink,  —  even 
ladies  invited  him,  —  and  now  he  is  far  on  the  road  to 
drunkenness." 

This  is  the  result  of  friendship,  so  called.  Had  I 
a  son,  I  would  pray  God  more  earnestly  to  save  him 
from  such  friendship  than  to  shield  him  from  his  well- 
known  enemies.  For  the  sake  of  others,  we  plead, 
then,  with  the  moderate  drinker,  and  remind  them 
that  no  possible  good  can  result  from  their  presenta- 
tion of  wine  or  strong  drink  to  others ;  but  there  may 
be  a  possible  harm  as  the  consequence.  I  would 
rather  give  the  poor  drunkard  his  last  glass  to  allay 
the  terrible  thirst  that  maddens  him,  than  to  give  him 
the  first  glass  that  lays  the  foundation  of  the  appetite 
that  leads  him  to  destruction. 


CHAPTER    XXXIY. 

TEMPERANCE   AND    THE   BIBLE. MY   VIEWS    ON    THE 

SCRIPTURE    QUESTION.  —  INCIDENTS. 

Assistance  demanded  from  all  Sides  —  Charity  —  The  Truth  our  "Weapon 

—  Scamp's  Tavern  —  "  '  The  Seven  Last  Plagues '  for  Sale  here  "  — 
Specimen  of  Liquor-Sellers'  Work  —  The  Wine  of  Scripture  and  of 
Commerce  —  Conflicting  Authorities  —  One  of  the  "  Doubtful  Dispu- 
tations "  —  Dr.  Norman  Ker's  Statement  —  The  Hieroglyphical  Argu- 
ment—  Assumed  Biblical   Commands   against  Strong  Drink  —  Dr. 
Samuel  H.  Cox  and  J.  Fenimore  Cooper  upon  Bible  Miracles  —  Absa- 
lom's Hair  —  What  Fish  swallowed  Jonah  —  Good  Men  who  endeavor 
to  sanction  Drinking  —  How  to  answer  these  Men  —  Advice  to  the 
Reformed  Man  —  Let  Arguments  alone  —  The  Outcast's   Conversion 

—  Many  Churches  unsafe  for  the  Reformed  Drunkard. 

[N  another  page  I  have  already  ex- 
pressed my  opinions  as  to  prohibi- 
tion. I  believe  that  a  prohibitory 
law,  based  on  the  public  sentiment 
of  antagonism  to  the  drink,  will  be 
successfully  enforced ;  and  just  in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  upheld  by  a  spasmodic 
effort,  pushed  through  a  legislature 
without  sufficient  sentiment  to  back  it,  it 
will  be  a  failure,  and  in  my  opinion  worse  than 
nothing. 

I  rejoice  in  every  effort  that  prohibits,  cripples,  or 
lessens  in  any  way  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquor.  I 
give  full  sympathy  to  the  work  of  the  Society  for 

481 


482  TRUTH  WOULD   KILL   IT. 

the  Suppression  of  Crime,  in  its  efforts  to  prevent 
the  dealers  from  violating  existing  laws.  I  welcome 
every  endeavor  to  break  up  a  single  grog-shop,  to 
curtail  the  hours  for  selling,  if  it  be  but  one  hour  in 
the  day.  I  say  to  such  a  worker:  "If  you  can  go  no 
further  with  us  than  to  reduce  the  number  of  licenses 
where  they  may  be  granted  by  the  city  or  town  coun- 
cil, do  that;  every  little  helps." 

I  cry  out  for  assistance  from  every  quarter.  Small 
help  is  better  than  no  help;  and  I  will  not  refuse  any 
aid  given  from  any  source  to  pull  down  the  strong- 
hold of  intemperance.  While  I  stand  unflinchingly 
on  the  platform  of  total  abstinence  and  absolute  pro- 
hibition, combining  their  forces  for  the  entire  aban- 
donment of  the  drinking  customs,  and  the  annihilation 
of  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  alcoholic  beverages,  I 
hold  out  my  hand  to  every  worker  as  far  as  he  can  go 
with  me,  if  it  is  but  a  step. 

The  truth  cannot  be  told  without  damaging  this 
horrible  business.  Did  the  whole  people  accept  the 
truth,  the  traffic  would  cease;  the  truth  would  kill  it. 
Even  where  the  truth  is  accidentally  told,  it  is  very 
damaging.  I  heard  in  Connecticut,  many  years  ago, 
that  a  man  named  Stephen  Camp  kept  a  tavern,  and 
had  procured  a  new  and  gaudy  sign.  There  was  so 
much  ornamentation  about  it  that  room  only  was  left 
for  the  initial  of  the  man's  first  name,  and  the  painter 
neglected  to  put  the  full-stop  between  the  S  and  the 
C,  so  that  it  read  "  S  Camp's  Tavern."  The  people 
read  it  "  Scamp's  Tavern,"  and  there  was  so  much 
truth  in  the  statement  involuntarily  exhibited  by  the 
tavern-keeper,  that  he  at  once  inserted  the  period. 
But  still  the  letters  ran  so  close  together  that  the 


SEVEN  LAST   PLAGUES.  .         483 

passers-by  would  read  it  "  Scamp's  Tavern,"  and  he 
was  compelled  to  procure  a  new  sign,  large  enough 
to  permit  him  to  give  the  full  name,  Stephen;  and 
then  he  was  at  peace. 

A  medical  gentleman  wrote  me  a  letter  giving  the 
original  of  the  story,  oft  repeated,  of  the  "  Seven 
Last  Plagues."  It  has  appeared  in  so  many  shapes, 
and  with  so  many  differing  particulars,  that  I  insert 
the  letter,  which  is  as  follows : 

"  DEAR  SIR  ;  When  I  heard  you  last  night  describing  the  appropriate 
signs  the  rumsellers  ought  to  hang  out,  showing  the  effect  of  their  opera- 
tions, it  occurred  to  me  that  I  ought  to  communicate  to  you  a  fact  which 
is  too  good  to  be  lost. 

"  In  Erie  there  lived,  a  few  years  ago,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Reed,  of  the 
Associate  Reformed  Church.  He  published  a  book  on  the  Revelations, 
entitled  '  The  Seven  Last  Plagues.'  This  Mr.  Reed  preached  part  of  his 
time  in  Waterford,  where  one  of  his  elders  kept  a  tavern.  So  Mr.  Reed 
left  several  copies  of  his  work  for  sale  with  this  elder,  accompanied  with 
a  handbill  which  contained  the  title  of  the  book,  which  was  stuck  up 
on  the  bar,  in  large  letters : 

'"THE  SEVEN  LAST  PLAGUES"  FOR  SALE  HERE.' 

"  This  conspicuous  handbill  had  the  eflfect  of  arresting  the  attention 
of  visitors,  and  you  can  easily  imagine  how  annoying  it  soon  became  to 
the  tavern-keeper,  when  humorous  and  fun-loving  persons  would  look  up 
at  the  bill  and  utter  some  sly  remark.  This  so  mortified  the  landlord 
that  he  eventually  gave  up  the  sale  of  the  poison,  and  kept  a  temperance 
house.  Having  stopped  at  the  house  both  before  and  after  the  trans- 
action here  stated,  I  know  the  fact  to  be  as  stated." 

Were  the  liquor-sellers  compelled  to  exhibit  speci- 
mens of  their  work  in  the  saloon-windows,  placing 
some  poor  wreck  of  a  man  in  a  conspicuous  place, 
with  bloated  face,  bleared  eyes,  swollen,  cracked, 
white  lips,  trembling  limbs,  noisome  breath,  offensive 
to  every  sense,  in  his  rags  and  dirt,  and  label  him 
"  Such  things  as  this  made  out  of  men  here,"  it  would 
do  more  to  break  up  this  vile  business  than  all  the 


484  WINES    OF    SCRIPTURE. 

efforts  put  forth  by  the  most  ardent  advocate  of  the 
temperance  reform. 

There  has  been  much  discussion,  and  many  volumes 
written,  and  some  strong  feelings  expressed,  and,  I 
think,  bitterness  engendered,  on  the  wines  of  Script- 
ure. I  pay  very  little  attention  to  this  agitation,  as 
the  subject  is  of  no  particular  moment  to  me.  I  am 
not  learned,  and  know  nothing  of  Hebrew  or  Greek; 
and  if  learned  men  say  that  the  Bible  sanctions  the 
use  of  alcoholic  wine,  that  the  Saviour  made  and 
drank  intoxicating  wine,  I  can  only  reply  that  I  do 
not  believe  it.  But  there  is  no  necessity  for  argu- 
ment with  me,  as  I  do  not  understand  the  question,  and 
it  is  perfectly  immaterial  to  me  what  wine  the  Saviour 
made  and  drank,  as  it  is  what  clothes  He  wore,  or 
what  food  He  ate;  for  I  am  no  more  bound  to  drink 
what  He  drank  than  I  am  to  eat  what  He  ate,  or  to 
wear  the  kind  of  clothing  in  which  He  was  ap- 
parelled. 

The  question  of  the  wines  of  Scripture,  in  my 
opinion,  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  wines 
of  commerce,  the  ardent  spirits,  the  ale,  and  other 
intoxicating  drinks  we  are  fighting  to-day.  If  I  be- 
lieved the  Bible  condemned  total  abstinence  from 
alcoholic  beverages,  I  would  advocate  their  disuse  no 
more.  If  the  Bible  commanded  me  to  drink  alco- 
holic beverages,  I  must  obey.  But  I  thank  God  that, 
with  the  light  He  has  thrown  on  the  page  of  His 
word,  and  with  my  conception  of  the  character  and 
mission  of  Christ  on  earth,  I  know,  as  well  as  I  need 
to  know  anything,  that  there  is  no  condemnation  of 
total  abstinence  in  the  Bible  to  me,  —  that  it  is  per- 
mitted, if  not  commanded;  and  if  you,  with  your 
Hebrew  and  Greek,  and  all  your  learning,  can  only 


DEBATABLE   GROUND.  485 

come  to  the  conclusion  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel 
who  told  me  that  "  Christ  liked  the  wine  best  that 
had  the  most  alcohol  in  it,"  then  I  thank  God  I  am 
not  an  educated  man,  and  know  nothing  of  Hebrew 
and  Greek. 

But  this  is  debatable  ground.  It  is  an  unprofitable 
discussion;  it  is  one  of  the  "  doubtful  disputations." 
"While  one  very  learned  man  insists  that  it  was  simply 
impossible  that  the  ancients  could  have  preserved 
their  grape-juice  unfermented,  unless  they  boiled  it 
in  air-tight  flasks,  another  equally  learned  declares 
not  only  that  it  is  possible,  but  proves  it  by  actual 
experiment.  I  quote  from  Dr.  Norman  Ker : 

"  This  distinguished  divine  might  as  well  declare  he  had  demonstrated 
that  no  man-child  had  ever  been  born  in  England  with  a  nose  on  his 
face.  I  know  that  I  was  born  with  a  nose,  because  I  could  see  it  and 
feel  it ;  and  I  know  that  wine  could  be  preserved  unfermented  and  unin- 
toxicating,  because  I  had  it  and  drank  it." 

Another  very  learned  man  tells  us  that  the  "  fruit 
of  the  vine  "  used  by  our  Lord  was  intoxicating  red 
wine.  I  hope  he  does  not  mean  the  "  wine  when  it  is 
red."  Others  equally  learned  deny  that.  One  rabbi 
will  tell  you,  as  one  told  me,  "  We  use  no  fermented 
wine  at  our  Passover.  We  boil  the  raisins,  and  use 
the  liquid  juice."  Another  rabbi  declares  that  they 
use  wine  that  is  fermented;  that  is,  wine  that  will 
make  men  drunk;  that  some  cannot  take  at  all  without 
danger. 

Some  learned  people  get  angry;  and  because  some 
others,  equally  learned,  tell  us  that  the  red  wine  was 
not  intoxicating,  they  declare  that  such  men  would 
trample  on  all  that  is  holy,  on  Christ  himself,  to  gain 
their  point  and  carry  out  their  theories.  Some  declare 
that  the  Bible  never  commends  the  use  of  intoxicating 
30 


486  "WE  RAN  AND  THEY  RAN." 

liquors,  and  some  affirm  that  it  countenances  and 
commends  them. 

The  atheist  asks,  and  has  asked  more  than  once, 
"  Can  a  book  be  true,  or  can  its  inspirer  be  infallible, 
when  in  it  liquids  which  men  of  science  and  medical 
practitioners  know  to  be  artificial  poisons  are  explic- 
itly commended  and  unstintingly  approved  of  ?  "  Let 
Dr.  Norman  Ker  reply: 

"  That  believers  in  the  Bible  and  its  author,  who 
are  acquainted  with  the  fact,  a  fact  beyond  dispute, 
that  alcohol  is  a  poison,  and  therefore  all  alcoholic 
liquors  are  poisonous,  are  absolutely  certain  that  the 
inspired  volume  cannot  possibly  sanction  the  use  of 
intoxicating  beverages." 

Then  some  learned  Christian  declares  that  such  a 
defender  is  as  bad  as  the  infidel.  And  so  the  discus- 
sion waxes  warm,  and  the  disputants  are  claiming 
each  for  his  own  side  the  victory,  reminding  you  of 
the  battle  of  "  Shirra  Muir,"  of  which  the  old  song 
says: 

"  There's  some  say  that  we  wan, 
Some  say  that  they  wan ; 
Some  say  that  nane  wan  at  a',  man. 
But  one  thing  I'm  sure, 
That  at  Shirra  Muir, 
A  battle  there  was,  which  I  saw,  man. 
And  we  ran  and  they  ran,  and  they  ran  and  we  ran, 
And  we  ran  and  they  ran  awa',  man." 

Now,  amidst  all  this  learning  and  science  and 
parading  of  knowledge  of  the  dead  languages,  where 
are  the  poor,  illiterate  people  who  desire  to  do  right 
to  take  their  position?  We  are  bewildered,  and  some- 
times shocked.  It  is  strangely  confusing  for  us,  pro- 
fessing no  profound  learning,  to  be  confronted  by  so 
much  knowledge!  I  once  received  a  letter,  on  one 


WE   ARE   PUZZLED.  487 

side  of  the  sheet  were  some  passages  of  Scripture, 
and  on  the  other  some  dots  and  dashes  and  half- 
circles,  appearing  to  me  as  if  German  text  and  Old 
English  had  gone  mad  together,  and  were  pulling 
each  other  to  pieces  and  scattering  the  fragments. 
Then  came  the  question  in  good  sound  English,  "Are 
you  prepared  to  deny  that  this  is  the  correct  reading 
of  the  quotations  I  have  made  ? "  I  felt  more  like 
dropping  the  paper,  and  running  away,  than  attempt- 
ing to  come  to  any  decision.  It  was  more  like  an 
incantation;  it  appeared  like  something  "uncanny," 
as  the  Scotch  say;  and  to  this  day  I  have  never  been 
able  to  ascertain  from  the  hieroglyphics  what  the  true 
rendering  of  the  quotations  was. 

Now,  we  who  are  ignorant  must  go  to  the  learned 
to  ascertain  what  is  correct,  and  if  they  do  not  agree, 
what  shall  we  do?  We  are  in  the  position  of  the 
voter  who  could  not  read,  asking  a  politician  to  read 
the  declaration  of  a  certain  party.  You  may  be  sure 
the  politician  gave  such  a  version  of  the  document  as 
suited  his  purposes  or  preferences.  So  I  give  up 
altogether  any  interest  in  the  discussion  of  the  Script- 
ure wine  question  as  being  to  me  unprofitable;  and 
amid  the  smoke  and  the  dust  of  conflict  of  opinions,  I 
will  look  beyond  and  through  it  all  to  the  hard  fact 
that  intemperance  is  the  curse  of  the  world;  and, 
without  judging  others  for  their  opinion,  will  do  my 
best  to  stay  this  tide  of  evil,  and  work  with  the  means 
God  has  put  into  my  hands  to  lift  up  the  fallen,  and 
build  a  barrier  between  the  unpolluted  lip  of  the  child 
and  the  agency  that  promotes  and  perpetuates  the 
evil. 

I  have  been  met  with  many  quotations  other  than 
Paul's  advice  to  Timothy.  Here  is  one  sent  me  as  a 


488  MISQUOTING   SCHIPTUKE. 

positive  command  in  the  Bible  to  drink  strong  drink. 
Dent.  xiv.  26,  "  Thou  shalt  bestow  that  money  for 
whatsoever  thy  soul  lusteth  after,"  for  oxen,  for  sheep, 
or  for  wine,  or  for  strong  drink,  &c. ;  and  Prov.  xxxi. 
4,  "  Give  strong  drink  to  him  that  is  ready  to  perish," 
&c.,  is  often  quoted.  I  was  told  that  a  Cameronian 
in  Scotland  declared  he  had  a  command  to  drink 
spirits,  "  for  are  we  not  told  to  try  the  spirits?  "  And 
so  he  would  try  every  whiskey-bottle  that  was  pre- 
sented to  him,  quoting  Scripture  at  the  same  time. 
There  is  scarcely  any  absurdity,  or  even  wrong-doing, 
that  some  men  do  not  pretend  to  find  a  warrant  for  in 
Scripture. 

I  heard  a  man  defend  gambling  from  the  passage, 
"  The  lot  is  cast  into  the  lap,  but  the  whole  dispos- 
ing thereof  is  of  the  Lord."  It  is  told  of  another  that 
he  refused  to  believe  the  Bible,  because  it  was  opposed 
to  personal  cleanliness ;  and  when  asked  for  evidence, 
quoted  the  passage,  "  He  that  is  filthy,  let  him  be 
filthy  still."  It  is  quite  a  common  thing  to  hear  men 
of  education  misquoting  Scripture,  or  repeating  some 
sentence  as  from  the  Bible  which  they  have  fished  up 
in  their  reading,  or  make  statements  as  from  the 
Bible  that  are  not  there. 

Many  years  ago,  on  one  of  the  Hudson  River  steam- 
boats, Dr.  Sam.  II.  Cox  introduced  me  to  James  Feni- 
more  Cooper,  the  very  celebrated  literary  man  and 
author.  The  conversation  turned  on  temperance,  then 
on  the  Slavery  question,  then  on  Theology,  and  at  last 
on  the  Bible  and  its  Divine  origin.  Doubt  was  ex- 
pressed as  to  the  miracles  recorded,  when  Dr.  Cox 
said,  "  There  were  miracles  recorded  in  the  Bible,  but 
not  so  many  as  some  people  supposed."  He  said  that 


CAUGHT   BY  HIS   HEAD.  489 

men  would  read  so  carelessly  as  to  imagine  a  miracle 
where  none  was  recorded. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  how  did  Absalom  come  by  his 
death?" 

The  reply  was,  "  He  was  hung  by  the  hair  of  his 
head  in  the  tree,  and  Joab  slew  him  with  darts  " 

"  Where  do  you  get  that?  " 

"  In  the  Bible." 

"  But  the  Bible  does  not  say  that  he  was  caught  by 
the  hair." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  it  does." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  it  does  not." 

A  waiter  was  called. 

"Bring  us  the  Bible." 

Dr.  Cox,  handing  it  to  Mr.  Cooper,  said,  "  Find  the 
passage." 

The  verse  containing  the  incident  was  found  to  be: 
"  And  Absalom  rode  upon  a  mule,  and  the  mule  went 
under  the  thick  boughs  of  a  great  oak,  and  his  head 
caught  hold  of  the  oak,  and  he  was  taken  up,"  &c. 
(2  Sam.  xviii.  9.) 

"Now,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  there  is  not  one  word  about 
the  hair.  To  be  sure  we  read  in  another  place  that 
he  polled  his  head  once  a  year,  because  his  hair  was 
heavy,  and  from  that,  men  judge  that  Absalom  on  the 
field  of  battle  rode  bareheaded;  his  long  hair  floating, 
so  that  in  riding  under  the  boughs  of  a  tree  he  was 
caught  by  the  hair. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  what  fish  swallowed  Jonah?  " 

The  reply  was,  "  A  whale." 

"Not  so,"  said  the  Doctor;  and  turning  to  the  pas- 
sage, he  read :  "  And  the  Lord  had  prepared  a  great 
fish  to  swallow  Jonah,"  &c.  (Jonah  i.  17.) 

"There!  the  Lord  prepared  that  fish  expressly  for 


490  NOT  A  WHALE. 

that  purpose.  It  was  not  a  whale  —  all  naturalists 
know  that  a  whale  could  not  swallow  a  man." 

This  interesting  conversation  continued  for  some 
time,  quite  a  group  of  interested  listeners  having  gath- 
ered round  the  talkers.  Several  illustrations  were 
given  to  show  how  carelessly  many  persons  read  the 
Bible,  and  how  strangely  absurd  are  some  of  the  quo- 
tations. 

But  I  must  say  I  am  grieved,  and  my  heart  grows 
sad,  at  the  efforts  by  good  men  to  sustain  the  drinking 
customs  by  the  Bible.  Our  aim  is  to  lead  men  to  the 
"Word  of  God,  and  to  the  Church  of  Christ.  But 
when  such  are  told  that  they  are  all  wrong,  that  total 
abstinence  is  unscriptural, — when  the  minister  who 
preaches  the  gospel,  to  which  we  commend  them, 
declares  that  it  is  fanaticism  to  abstain,  that  the  Saviour 
used  wine, —  it  seems  to  me  like  striking  the  knuckles 
of  some  poor  shipwrecked  creature  who  is  clinging  to 
the  life-boat. 

I  will  just  say  to  the  reformed  man:  When  infidels 
tell  you  that  Jesus  Christ  made  and  drank  an  article 
of  which  the  Bible  says,  "  Look  not  on  the  wine  when 
it  is  red,"  give  no  reply  but  this,  "  I  do  not  believe  it." 
An  infidel  told  me  that  Jesus  made  sixty  gallons  of 
intoxicating  wine  for  drinking  when  the  whole  com- 
pany was  drunk.  All  I  could  say  was,  "  I  do  not  be- 
lieve it."  When  an  infidel  tells  you  that  Jesus  Christ 
Was  guilty  of  immorality,  when  He  bade  His  disciples 
all  to  drink  that  which  is  condemned  in  the  Scriptures 
as  a  "  mocker,"  do  not  believe  him.  And  when,  which 
is  far  worse  in  my  estimation,  a  Christian  minister  or 
editor,  or  professor,  tells  you  that  Jesus  Christ  was  a 
drinking  man,  a  moderate  drinker  of  intoxicating 
wine;  that  He  drank  and  commended  that  which  the 


DO   NOT   BELIEVE   IT.  491 

Bible  declares  "  biteth  like  a  serpent  and  stingeth  like 
an  adder;"  that  He  gave  to  others  that  of  which  the 
Bible  says,  "  Woe  unto  him  that  giveth  his  neighbor 
drink;  "  that  He  made  and  used,  and  gave,  to  others, 
that  which  is  called  the  "  wine  of  astonishment,"  the 
wine  through  which  "  the  priest  and  prophet  have 
erred  "  and  "  are  out  of  the  way,  through  which  they 
err  in  vision  and  stumble  in  judgment,"  through 
which  "  all  tables  are  full  of  vomit  and  filthiness,  so 
that  there  is  no  place  clean ; "  that  which  is  called  the 
"  poison  of  dragons,"  and  the  "  cruel  venom  of  asps ;" 
that  Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour,  made  and  drank,  and 
gave  to  others,  that  which  you  cannot  touch  without 
danger,  —  tell  them  you  do  not  believe  it. 

Do  not  attempt  argument  with  them,  for  they  will 
laugh  you  to  scorn  for  daring  to  attack  them  with 
your  limited  education,  and  will  overwhelm  you  with 
tirosk,  yayin,  oinos,  gleukos,  and  other  words  you  do 
not  understand,  and  they  will  bring  Oriental  trav- 
ellers, returned  missionaries,  Jewish  rabbis,  learned 
men,  to  testify  against  you,  —  still  tell  them  you  do 
not  believe  it.  There  are  men  on  the  other  side  as 
learned  as  they  are,  who  deny  their  position  altogether. 

Let  them  bring  all  the  travellers  that  have  ever  trav- 
elled; all  the  missionaries  that  have  ever  returned;  all 
the  Hebrew  scholars  that  have  ever  lived;  all  the 
Jewish  rabbis,  from  the  first  to  the  present;  and  then 
bring  Paul  and  all  the  apostles,  and  all  the  prophets, 
priests  and  kings,  of  whom  we  have  any  record  in  the 
Bible,  as  evidence,  —  let  them  pour  out  all  their  learn- 
ing and  knowledge  of  languages,  —  answer  them  not 
a  word  but  that  you  do  not  believe  it. 

But  do  this:  Carefully  and  prayerfully  study  the  life 
of  Christ;  His  mission,  His  example,  His  infinite  con- 


492  NO!  NO! 

descension  and  love,  His  pity  for  the  fallen,  His  going 
about  doing  good,  His  sympathetic  ministrations. 
Study  Him  well,  and  you  cannot  believe  that  He  who 
taught  you  to  pray  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation," 
would  commend  to  you  that  which  is  the  great  temp- 
tation of  your  life,  against  which  you  fight  day  by 
day,  and  to  which,  if  you  yield,  you  can  never  see  His 
face,  but  are  banished  with  adulterers,'  liars,  and  all 
the  wicked  from  His  presence  forever.  "Will  you,  can 
you  believe  that  He  sets  you  an  example  370u  cannot 
follow?  "Nol  no!  no!  Then  let  us  "stand  up  for 
Jesus;"  and  notwithstanding  all  the  attempts  of  any 
ministers  in  His  name  to  fix  on  Him  the  charge  of 
encouraging  wine-bibbing  by  His  example,  and  pre- 
cept, —  let  us  lovingly,  trusting  Him  and  relying  on 
His  grace,  pursue  the  path  of  safety,  confidently 
believing  that  He  approves  our  efforts  to  present  our 
"  bodies  a  living  sacrifice."  This  is  my  advice  to  any 
reformed  drunkard.  Let  others  attempt  to  make  good 
this  charge  against  Jesus  as  a  moderate  drinker  of 
alcoholic  stimulants.  Mix  not  up  in  what  Dr.  Fowler 
calls  "  undistributed  muddle."  "We  will  let  them  fight 
it  out,  while  we  thank  Him  for  the  total  abstinence 
that  was  the  means  of  grace  with  His  blessing  by 
which  we  have,  as  we  trust,  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of 
the  snare  of  the  fowler.  I  do  not  suppose  that  all 
the  Christian  advocates  of  the  intoxicating  wine- 
drinking  of  our  Saviour  mean  to  hinder  the  poor 
reformed  drunkard  from  adopting  the  safe  principle, 
but  indirectly  it  is  a  hindrance,  and  a  stumbling-block 
to  many. 

I  pray  God  that  the  time  may  come  when  the  re- 
formed drunkard  may  find  a  safe  refuge   in  every 


A  REDEEMED   OUTCAST.  493 

church.  It  is  a  consolation  that  Christ  often  receives 
those  whom  His  church  despises. 

When  I  was  in  Indiana,  at  one  time,  a  lady  told  me 
that  during  a  revival  a  poor  outcast  woman  attempted 
to  enter  the  place  of  worship,  and  was  rudely  pushed 
back,  with  a  threat  of  calling  the  police.  She  sadly 
turned  her  back  on  the  door  open  for  others,  but 
closed  to  her,  and  knelt  down  on  the  grass  in  the 
yard  of  the  church,  and  told  Jesus,  when  He  met  her 
and  pardoned  her.  This  lady  furthermore  told  me 
that  she  never  witnessed  such  a  death-scene  as  at  the 
bed-side  of  this  poor  redeemed  outcast;  it  was  glori- 
ous, —  the  exercise  of  simple  faith  in  Him  who 
received  her  whom  others  rejected. 

I  gladly  acknowledge  that  there  are  churches,  and 
many  of  them,  who  hold  out  the  hand  of  friendship 
and  cordial  sympathy  for  the  reformed  drunkard;  but 
there  are  too  many  where  he  can  find  no  safe  refuge, 
where  the  preaching,  the  precept,  and  the  example 
are  all  against  him. 


CHAPTEK    XXXY. 


WAR  WITH  DRINK.  —  TEMPERANCE  ORGANIZATIONS. — 
WOMAN'S  WORK  AND  INFLUENCE. 

The  National  Temperance  Society  —  Women's  Christian  Temperance 
Union  —  The  Blue  and  Red  Ribbon  Armies  —  American  Temperance 
Society  —  Growth  of  the  Work  —  Washingtonian  Movement  —  Grow- 
ing Unpopularity  of  Washingtonianism  —  Favorite  Epithets  —  "We 
don't  want  any  Religion  in  the  Movement "  —  Poor  Tom  Marshall  — 
Danger  to  Reform  Clubs  —  Sympathy  demanded  for  the  Lost  —  Give 
the  Reformed  Man  Work  —  The  Temperance  Hall  a  Place  of  Safety 
—  The  Dirt  and  Discomforts  of  some  so-called  Temperance  Hotels  — 
Personal  Experience  —  The  "Model"  and  "Central"  Coffee  Houses 
of  Philadelphia  —  The  Medical  Question  —  Rum  by  the  Keg  —  Physi- 
cian giving  Poison  for  Health  —  Heroism  and  Fanaticism  —  "  Stand  to 
your  Principle." 

IME  and  space  forbid  more  than  an 
allusion  to  the  various  organizations 
now  engaged  in  the  work  of  enlighten- 
ing the  public  mind  in  reference  to  the 
great  drink  question,  in  efforts  to  ob- 
tain legislative  enactments,  and  the 
circulation  of  temperance  literature; 
the  Good  Templars,  the  Sons  of  Temper- 
ance, the  Temples  of  Honor,  and  kindred 
associations,  all  aiming  at  and  working  for  the  same 
results. 

One  of  the  chief  of  these  agencies  is  the  National 

494 


WOMEN'S  TEMPERANCE  UNION.  495 

Temperance  Society  and  Publication  House,*  whose 
principal  object  is  the  distribution  of  a  sound  and 
reliable  temperance  literature.  The  last  annual  re- 
port is  a  valuable  document.  In  it  the  managers  say 
that  the  society  has  had  in  its  business  department 
the  most  prosperous  year  of  its  existence,  and  that, 
"  while  drinking  and  drunkenness  may  have  increased 
in  some  of  our  cities,  the  cause  of  temperance  in  the 
country  at  large  has  never  made  as  gratifying  ad- 
vances as  during  the  years  just  ended,  or  stood  as 
well  before  the  nation  as  it  does  to-day." 

The  Women's  National  Christian  Temperance  Union 
was  organized  in  November,  187-i.  This  society  was 
the  direct  outgrowth  of  the  crusade,  —  a  most  won- 
derful work,  which  roused  the  whole  people  to  a  con- 
sideration of  the  evils  of  drunkenness,  creating  an 
interest  such  as  the  country  had  never  seen  since  the 
days  of  Washingtonianism,  forty  years  ago.  It  has 
had  a  marvellous  growth  and  an  amazing  success. 
Mrs.  Wittenmyer's  Handbook  of  the  Women's  Na- 
tional Christian  Temperance  Union  is  a  most  interest- 
ing and  valuable  document.  I  consider  the  Union  to 
be  the  most  efficient  organization  in  this  country  to- 
day. I  believe  it  has  accomplished  more  permanent 
good  in  the  short  period  of  its  existence  than  any 
other  for  forty  years  past.  These  Christian  women 
have  worked  among  children  in  Juvenile  Unions, 
Bands  of  Hope,  Sunday  schools,  and  day  schools. 
"  Much  gospel  work  has  been  done  outside  the 
churches,  in  cottage  meetings,  in  halls,  and  on  camp- 
grounds." "  Reform  clubs  have  been  organized,  and 
reformatory  homes  for  women  established,  and  in 
every  possible  way  that  Christian  women  could  work 

*  The  offices  of  this  society  are  at  No.  58  Reade  Street,  New  York. 


496  GOSPEL    TEMPERANCE. 

the  interests  of  the  cause  have  been  pressed  all  along 
the  line.  And  through  it  all  continuous  prayer  has 
been  maintained;  for  wherever  there  is  a  Woman's 
Temperance  Union,  there  a  consecrated  band  of  Chris- 
tian women  meet  to  pray.  Prayer  is  the  vital  breath 
of  this  society,  and  the  watchword  is,  l  In  God  we 
trust.' " 

Springing  from  and  growing  out  of  this  grand  work 
of  the  women,  are  the  reform  clubs,  and  the  blue  or 
red  ribbon  armies,  spreading  all  over  this  land,  and 
stretching  across  the  Atlantic.  Most  of  these  organi- 
zations are  now  effectually  doing  good  service  for  the 
cause  of  temperance. 

We  are  in  the  habit  of  speaking  of  the  "Gospel 
Temperance  Movement "  as  if  it  were  some  new  thing. 
The  first  effectual  effort  to  stem  the  tide  of  intemper- 
ance was  made  by  Christian  men.  I  would  commend 
to  those  who  are  desirous  of  knowing  the  inception 
and  development  of  the  temperance  reform,  to  read 
the  "  History  of  the  Temperance  Movement,"  by  Rev. 
J.  B.  Dunn,  D.D.,  which  is  embodied  in  the  Centen- 
nial Temperance  volume,  published  by  the  National 
Society.  It  is,  in  my  opinion,  the  most  clear,  com- 
pact, concise,  and  yet  nearly  exhaustive  history  that 
has  ever  been  written. 

The  American  Temperance  Society  was  formed  in 
1826.  The  pledge  was,  "  Total  abstinence  from  ardent 
spirits."  Who  were  the  promoters  and  members  of 
that  association?  Christian  men,  such  as  Rev.  Leon- 
ard Woods,  D.D.,  Rev.  Justin  Edwards,  John  Tap- 
pan,  S.  Y.  S.  Wilder,  Rev.  Dr.  Hewitt,  Rev.  William 
Collier,  Rev.  E.  W.  Hooker,  and  Dr.  Lyman  Beecher, 
who  preached  his  six  celebrated  sermons  that  year. 

In  1829,  a  day  was  set  apart  for  fasting  and  prayer 


WASHINGTONIANISM.  497 

on  account  of  intemperance.  The  New  York  State 
society  was  organized;  the  Connecticut  State  society 
was  formed.  The  officers  of  the  latter  organization 
were  such  men  as  Rev.  Jeremiah  Day,  D.D.,  Presi- 
dent of  Yale  College,  and  Rev.  Calvin  Chapin.  And 
so  the  cause  grew  and  prospered,  steadily  increasing 
in  power  with  men  like  Dr.  Mussey,  Dr.  Hosack,  Dr. 
Hitchcock,  and  Professor  Wayland.  In  1831,  there 
were  societies  in  every  State,  except  Maine,  Alabama, 
Louisiana,  Illinois,  and  Missouri;  until,  in  1836,  at  a 
convention  in  Saratoga,  the  total-abstinence  pledge 
from  all  intoxicating  beverages  was  adopted,  and  has 
been  the  recognized  and  only  pledge  for  more  than 
forty  years. 

In  1840,  the  Washingtonian  movement  commenced. 
Dr.  Jewett  said  that  at  that  time  nineteen-twentieths 
of  the  clergy  were  total  abstainers.  Washingtonian- 
ism  became  popular.  All  other  effort  seemed  to  lose 
its  attraction,  and  truly  it  was  a  great  work.  Men 
who  had  been  hopeless  drunkards  reformed  and  be- 
came public  teachers.  The  spirit  of  the  movement 
was  the  gospel  spirit  of  charity,  kindness,  and  sym- 
pathy for  the  suffering  wrong-doer.  The  law  of  love 
was  the  Washingtonian  law.  Soon  faithful  men  who 
had  borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day,  who  had 
endured  persecution  for  truth's  sake,  were  startled  to 
hear  themselves  called  old  fogies,  slow,  men  who  did 
not  understand  the  first  principles  of  the  reform. 
Men  became  leading  reformers  who  were  not  qualified 
by  experience,  or  training,  or  education,  to  lead,  and 
out  of  them  a  class  sprung  up  who  became  dictato- 
rial, and  sometimes  insolent.  Irreligious  men  insulted 
in  some  instances  ministers  of  religion  who  had  been 
hard  workers  for  temperance;  reformed  drunkards 


498  MISTAKES   OF   REFORMERS. 

sneered  at  those  who  had  never  been  intemperate,  as 
if  former  degradation  was  the  only  qualification  for 
leadership. 

I  was  a  Washingtonian  rescued  by  the  spirit  of 
Washingtonianism,  and  testify  of  what  I  know  in 
saying  that  more  than  one  minister  of  the  gospel  shut 
the  door  of  his  church  against  some  of  these  men, 
because  he  could  not  sit  still  and  hear  in  his  own 
pulpit,  before  his  own  people  and  the  children  of  his 
charge,  such  loose  and  sometimes  vulgar  utterances 
as  were  occasionally  heard.  Any  remonstrance  was 
construed  at  once  into  opposition  to  the  cause  itself, 
rather  than  to  their  method. 

All  advocacy  of  law  was  denounced  as  opposed  to 
Washingtonianism,  and  many  men  who  had  been 
prominent  not  only  for  their  zeal  in  the  temperance 
cause,  but  also  for  their  ability  and  Christian  charac- 
ter, were  thrown  into  the  background.  I  do  not  say 
that  this  spirit  was  universal,  but  there  was  enough 
of  it  to  become  an  element  of  weakness  which  grew 
into  disease,  and  Washingtonianism  as  an  ism  passed 
away;  and  now  I  hardly  suppose  there  is  a  society 
called  by  that  name  in  the  country,  while  in  the  palmy 
days  of  the  movement  every  town  and  village  had  its 
society. 

My  firm  belief  then  and  now  is  that  no  moral  move- 
ment can  live  other  than  a  brief  spasmodic  existence 
that  would  wipe  God  out  of  it,  and  ignore  or  contend 
against  the  Christian  element.  I  have  before  me 
two  volumes  of  scraps  collected  from  the  temper- 
ance papers  of  1811  16.  This  was  about  the  time 
when  some  of  the  societies  would  have  no  members 
but  those  who  had  been  drunkards ;  who  would  per- 
mit no  minister  of  the  gospel  to  take  any  part  in  their 


THE   FIRST   ATTACK.  499 

exercises;  who  occupied  the  whole  of  the  Sabbath- 
day  in  meeting,  relating  experiences,  and  singing 
songs  that  were  occasionally  objectionable.  I  give 
from  these  papers  a  few  extracts.  After  I  had  re- 
turned from  my  first  visit  to  the  western  part  of  £Tew 
York  state,  in  company  with  Rev.  John  Marsh,  I  gave 
an  account  of  my  tour.  The  following  extracts  are 
from  that  speech  in  the  Tremont  Temple,  taken  from 
the  Mercantile  Journal  in  August,  1844: 

"  He  [Mr.  Gough]  stated  that  in  some  places  he  visited  he  was  in- 
formed by  the  leading  Washingtonians  that  Washingtonianism,  as  an 
ism,  was  dead;  that  it  had  done  all  it  could,  and  the  cause  was  now 
falling  back.  The  reason  assigned  for  this  was,  that  the  people  in  these 
places  had  become  disgusted  with  the  many  follies  dragged  before  the 
public  in  connection  with  Washingtonianism,  theatrical  exhibitions,  &c. ; 
and  what  is  most  important,  infidelity  had  attached  itself  to  the  car  of 
Washingtonianism,  and  impeded  its  progress  by  endeavoring  to  drag 
itself  into  notice  and  standing  in  connection  with  it. 

"  To  the  dismay  of  thousands,  men  are  found  advancing  Washingto- 
nianism and  infidelity  at  the  same  breath,  and  some  presses  in  our  country 
are  devoted  to  this  object.  Men  of  respectability  and  standing,  men  of 
moral  feeling,  and  old  temperance  men  stand  aloof  from  a  cause  shackled 
with  these  evils,  and  call  for  a  new  order  of  things.  They  will  not  give 
their  influence  until  Washingtonianism  has  freed  itself  of  these  dead 
weights,  and  stands  forth  in  its  original  purity  and  beauty. 

"He  [Mr.  Gough]  said  that  in  every  place  he  visited  there  was  a  good 
feeling  existing  towards  the  cause  of  temperance,  but  it  needed  to  be 
brought  out  and  properly  directed.  .  .  . 

"  In  one  place  there  had  not  been  a  social  Washingtonian  meeting 
held  for  eighteen  months.  Two  of  the  leading  men  hi  the  cause  endeav- 
ored to  raise  funds  to  hire  a  hall  to  hold  meetings.  After  canvassing  the 
town,  upon  comparing  notes  it  was  found  one  had  obtained  a  dollar  and 
forty  cents,  and  the  other  a  dollar  and  ten  cents.  What  was  the  cause 
of  this  apathy,  this  backwardness?  It  was  what  he  had  already  stated  — 
the  people  were  disgusted  with  the  many  follies  and  evils  which  had 
attached  themselves  to  the  movement." 

For  these  utterances  I  was  subjected  to  an  attack, 
which  being  the  first,  wounded  me  sorely.  In  Octo- 
ber I  was  thus  severely  called  to  account  for  mixing 
orthodoxy  with  my  temperance  utterances : 


500  NO   RELIGION. 

"  We  beg  Mr.  Gough  to  pause,  ere  he  lends  his  powers  to  any  secta- 
rian use  in  the  holy  cause  of  temperance.  He  is  a  reformed  man,  and 
has  ample  evidence  in  his  own  glorious  experience  of  the  all-conquering 
power  of  the  true  Washingtonian  principles,  and  motives  innumerable 
to  lay  before  the  poor  inebriate  in  urging  his  reformation,  without  going 
into  the  future  world  for  them,  —  motives  connected  with  this  life,  with 
the  poor  sufferer's  own  temporal  well-being  and  happiness." 

"Whenever  I  attempted  to  appeal  to  the  drunkard 
on  the  ground  of  sin  against  God,  or  men's  responsi- 
bility to  God,  or  in  view  of  future  retribution,  I  was 
either  snubbed  or  soundly  rated  for  introducing 
"men's  eternal  interests,  of  which  I  knew  nothing," 
&c.  Some  of  the  notices  are  quite  amusing  at  this 
late  day,  but  at  the  time  I  felt  them  keenly.  I  quote 
from  the  scraps  before  me: 

"  A  religious  bigot  and  ignoramus." 
"  Perverting  the  cause  to  sectarian  ends." 

"  Dwelling  on  a  set  of  motives  which  he  knows  never  had  an  agency 
in  promoting  this  glorious  reform." 

These  are  specimens  of  the  utterances  of  a  portion 
of  the  press  devoted  to  the  interests  of  Washingto- 
nianism.  I  doubt  if  there  are  any  of  these  papers  in 
existence  now;  I  know  not  of  one. 

Mr.  Mitchell,  the  originator  of  the  movement,  was 
received  in  1843  by  the  people  of  Boston.  I  have 
given  a  description  of  that  grand  demonstration  in 
my  Autobiography.  I  think  there  has  been  nothing 
like  it  since.  He  went  with  me  to  Salem,  and  ex- 
pressed himself  very  strongly  against  the  introduc- 
tion of  anything  religious,  and  said,  "  We  don't  want 
any  religion  in  the  movement." 

I  heard  the  Hon.  Thomas  Marshall,  of  Kentucky, 
make  a  ten  minutes'  speech  in  Broadway  Tabernacle, 
at  the  close  of  an  address  of  mine,  in  which  he  said: 
"Were  this  great  globe  one  chrysolite,  and  I  were 


CHRISTIAN   CHARITY.  501 

offered  the  possession  if  I  would  drink  one  glass  of 
brandy,  I  would  refuse  it  with  scorn ;  and  I  want  no 
religion,  I  want  the  temperance  pledge."  With  that 
wonderful  voice  of  his  he  thundered  out:  "We  want 
no  religion  in  this  movement;  let  it  be  purely  secular, 
and  keep  religion  where  it  belongs."  Poor  Tom 
Marshall,  with  all  his  self-confidence,  fell,  and  died 
at  Poughkeepsie  in  clothes  given  him  by  Christian 
charity. 

I  know  I  shall  not  be — for  I  cannot  be  —  misunder- 
stood, if  I  say  that  in  some  of  our  reform  clubs  I  see 
a  tendency  to  just  such  a  practical  repudiation  of 
divine  help  and  assistance.  I  will  make  no  specifica- 
tions, except  to  say  that  I  know  some  reform  clubs 
that  sadly  need  reforming. 

The  results  of  Washingtonianism  were  grand;  I 
would  not  depreciate  the  work;  and  there  were  many 
who  labored  faithfully  and  truly  to  the  end  of  their 
lives,  like  John  Hawkins  and  others.  But  why  should 
not  Washingtonianism  be  a  power  in  this  land  now? 
To  be  sure,  the  Blue-Ribbon  and  Red-Ribbon  Armies 
have  sprung  up  in  the  country,  and  are  doing  im- 
mense good.  The  principle  of  charity  for  the  intem- 
perate, pity  that  moves  to  help,  sympathy  that  offers 
the  hand  to  lift  up,  are  the  same  as  in  the  other  move- 
ment; but  when  all  this  charity  is  Christian,  when  the 
pity  is  Christ-like  pity,  when  the  sympathy  is  Christian 
sympathy,  there  is  the  element  of  permanence;  and  I 
believe  that  the  element  of  decay  is  in  the  irreligious, 
loose  methods  adopted  by  so  many  workers  in  the 
earlier  day.  The  temperance  cause  is  not  strictly  a 
religious  enterprise;  it  is  a  secular  movement;  but 
the  religious  element  in  it  is  the  measure  of  its  suc- 
cess, and  the  absence  of  that  element  is  its  decay. 
31 


502  "DO   NOT   TURN   ME   OUT." 

A  very  important  fact  not  to  be  ignored  is  that  the 
drunkard,  when  he  would  reform,  needs  help,  human 
help,  human  practical  sympathy.  I  have  before  me  a 
letter,  sent  by  a  very  dear  friend  who  is  engaged  in 
evangelical  work,  enclosing  another  letter  that  he 
received  from  a  man  redeemed  from  drink  after  a 
course  of  intemperance  and  degradation.  After  de- 
scribing his  conversion,  the  reformed  man  says : 

"And  now,  dear  brother,  you  must  pardon  me  if  I  add  a  word  regard- 
ing the  duty  of  Christians  toward  those  whom  the  Lord  has  saved  from 
that  awful  vice.  There  is  a  common  belief  amongst  good  people  that  a 
reformed  inebriate  has  to  endure  the  scoffs  and  sneers  of  his  former 
associates,  but  that  he  is  consoled  and  strengthened  by  the  rallying 
around  him  of  Christian  people.  I  have  heard  you  say  from  the  plat- 
form, in  exhorting  the  inebriate  converts  to  go  to  work  and  do  some- 
thing useful,  that  they  would  see  how  the  churches  would  rally  around 
them.  Now  you  must  pardon  me  for  saying  that  all  such  talk  involves  a 
double  error :  the  former  associates  do  not  scoff,  and  the  churches  do  not 
rally.  And  my  purpose  in  writing  this  letter  is  to  implore  you,  in  behalf 
of  that  unfortunate  class,  to  use  your  great  influence  with  Christian 
people,  wherever  you  may  be,  to  take  those  poor  castaways  by  the  hand 
in  a  sense  other  than  metaphorical. 

"  What  they  need  is  work,  —  honest,  useful  work.  See  that  they 
have  it.  See  that  they  have  a  chance,  by  hard  and  honest  work  in  any 
avocation  for  which  they  are  qualified,  to  rear  again  on  this  fair  earth  — 
which  belongs,  not  to  Christians,  as  too  many  of  them  seem  to  think,  but 
to  Christ  —  the  edifice  of  a  noble  character.  I  know  you  think  this  is 
done ;  but,  believe  me,  it  is  not.  Magnificent  opportunities  for  worship 
and  for  spiritual  guidance  are  indeed  afforded,  and  I  thank  God  for  it ; 
but  preaching  was  not  the  greatest  need  of  the  man  who  fell  among 
thieves :  what  he  most  needed  was  to  have  his  wounds  bound  up,  and  be 
taken  to  an  inn." 

A  man  during  the  first  struggle  with  his  enemy 
needs  a  refuge,  a  place  of  safety.  The  poor  fellow  who 
came  into  a  temperance  club-room  very  drunk,  when 
asked  why  he  was  there,  said,  "  Do  not  turn  me  out. 
I  know  I  am  drunk;  but  I  have  just  signed  the 
pledge,  and  I  came  in  here  for  safety."  Therefore 
with  all  my  heart  do  I  approve  these  refuges  for  the 


SHAM   TEMPERANCE   HOUSES.  503 

intemperate  men,  especially  during  the  first  few  days 
of  their  conflict.  I  am  speaking  of  those  who  fight 
against  the  terrible  craving;  for  a  man  who  has  no 
appetite  to  conquer  needs  no  help.  I  do  not  mean 
fashionable  boarding-houses,  where  men  can  go  as  to 
a  hospital  to  be  cured  of  a  disease  simply,  but  to  a 
home  where  he  may  find  Christian  sympathy,  and  be 
led  to  the  only  source  of  refuge,  —  where  appeals  are 
made  to  his  conscience,  representing  his  drunkenness 
not  as  a  mere  peccadillo  that  he  may  commit  when  he 
will  with  no  moral  obliquity,  but  a  sin  against  his 
body  and  soul,  and  a  sin  against  God. 

The  coffee-palace  movement  in  England  has  been 
productive  of  great  good.  I  have  no  sympathy  with 
many  places  called  "  temperance  houses,"  where  they 
charge  as  much  for  dirt  and  discomfort  as  you  are 
required  to  pay  for  cleanliness  and  comfort  in  any 
other  place ;  trading  on  your  principles,  palming  off 
damaged  goods  upon  you,  and  swindling  in  the  sa- 
cred name  of  Temperance.  I  have  patronized  these 
houses  until,  becoming  disgusted,  and  for  the  sake  of 
my  health,  I  have  been  compelled  to  seek  entertain- 
ment at  other  houses,  or  stay  in  the  street.  I  do  not 
pretend  to  say  that  all  temperance  houses  are  of  this 
base  character,  but  many  are,  and  have  been  a  dis- 
grace to  the  name,  until  among  many  good  people 
"  Temperance  House "  has  been  only  another  name 
for  dirt,  discomfort,  and  overcharging,  with  incivility. 
There  are  first-class  houses,  kept  by  earnest  and  honest 
men,  that  are  a  credit  to  the  cause,  and  deserve  our 
patronage  and  recommendation. 

These  coffee-houses  should  be  made  as  clean  and 
attractive  as  any  of  the  gaudy  liquor-shops.  ~No 
man  cares  to  go  for  refreshments  into  a  dark,  dingy, 


504  MODEL    COFFEE-HOUSE. 

unsavory  place;  and  his  temperance  principles  must 
be  very  strong  to  induce  him  to  pass  by  a  place  clean, 
cheery,  and  bright,  for  one  of  those  places,  simply 
because  there  is  a  sign  hung  out  declaring  it  to  be  a 
temperance  saloon  or  refreshment-room. 

I  once  went  into  one  of  these,  decoyed  by  the  sign- 
board, and  sat  down  at  a  table  where  the  cloth  looked 
like  a  map  of  the  United  States,  stained  with  mus- 
tard, coffee,  and  grease,  crumbs  scattered  all  over  it; 
the  place  reminding  you  of  Coleridge's  description  of 
Cologne,  in  which  he  counted  seventy-five  distinct 
smells.  I  called  for  a  steak,  and  can  hardly  describe 
the  sights  that  met  my  eyes  while  that  steak  was  in 
preparation.  First  the  bread  was  put  on  the  table,  — 
not  a  very  attractive  loaf;  then  some  butter  that  had 
been  cut  with  a  dirty  knife.  The  steak,  how  can  that 
be  described!  It  reminded  you  of  the  man  who 
refused  to  partake  of  a  similar  steak  on  the  ground 
that  it  was  an  infringement  of  Goody  ear's  patent  for 
India  rubber.  I  asked  for  a  cup  of  tea.  It  came, 
reminding  you  again  of  the  customer  who  said,  "  If 
this  is  tea,  I  want  coffee;  if  it  is  coffee,  I  want  tea." 
In  the  sugar  a  wet  spoon  had  been  so  often  dipped  that 
it  had  caked  into  little  drops  of  discolored  sweetness. 
The  spoon  itself  was  sticky;  and  the  whole  affair  was 
so  utterly  destructive  to  all  healthy  appetite,  that  I 
left  as  hungry  as  I  entered. 

These  coffee-houses  may  be  made  very  attractive, 
like  the  "  Model  "  and  "  Central  "  in  Philadelphia,  es- 
tablished in  1874  by  Joshua  Bailey,  Esq.,  and  feeding 
four  thousand  daily.  This  is  a  private  enterprise,  and 
wholly  sustained  by  Mr.  Bailey.  The  "  Model,"  for 
completeness  in  its  accommodations,  has  no  superior 
in  the  world.  A  company  has  been  formed  in  New 


AS   A   MEDICINE.  505 

York,  "  The  New  York  Coffee-House  Company,"  and 
one  in  Brooklyn,  organized  as  the  "  Sailors'  Coffee- 
House  and  Reading-Room."  These  and  similar  es- 
tablishments under  the  right  superintendence  may  be 
and  will  be  of  great  service  to  the  cause  of  reform. 

The  medical  aspect  of  the  temperance  question  has 
been  ably  discussed  by  some  of  the  first  physicians 
of  the  day,  both  in  this  country  and  on  the  continent 
of  Europe.  So  many  works  have  been  published  on 
the  subject  during  the  last  few  years,  that  I  will  sim- 
ply say  that  I  never  use  it  as  a  medicine  under  any 
circumstances  whatever,  and  furthermore  will  employ 
no  doctor  who  is  in  the  habit  of  constantly  prescribing 
alcoholic  drinks. 

Dr.  Richardson  gives  his  method  of  prescription  in 
his  address  to  the  medical  profession.  He  says : 

"  As  a  therapeutical  agent,  I  have  never  excluded  alcohol  from  my 
practice.  But  this  is  what  I  have  done  for  nine  years  past:  I  have, 
whenever  I  thought  I  wanted  its  assistance,  prescribed  it  purely  as  a 
chemical  medicinal  substance,  in  its  pure  form,  in  precise  doses,  in  defi- 
nite order  of  time.  As  I  have  prescribed  amyl  nitrite,  or  chloroform,  or 
ether,  so  I  have  prescribed  alcohol. 

"  By  this  method  I  have  an  absolute  experience  of  the  clinical  use  of 
alcohol,  which,  I  think  I  may  safely  say,  does  not  belong  to  many  other 
prescribing  physicians.  There  are  thousands  of  physicians  who,  in  the 
same  time,  have  probably  prescribed  alcoholic  fluids  a  hundred  times  to 
my  single  time ;  but  if  they  were  to  be  asked  the  precise  doses  they  have 
ordered,  the  actual  purity  of  the  substances  they  have  ordered,  they 
would  be  quite  unable,  in  most  cases,  to  answer  at  all.  So  many  ounces 
of  wine,  so  many  ounces  of  brandy  or  whiskey,  really  means  nothing  at 
all  that  is  reliable.  Therefore  an  absolute  experience  of  alcohol,  and 
that  only,  is  a  novelty." 

But  I  know  there  are  physicians  who  prescribe  it 
by  the  keg;  that  is,  the  patient  is  ordered  to  provide 
himself  with  a  keg,  or  so  many  dozen  bottles  of  ale, 
and  take  a  glass  when  he  feels  a  sinking,  &c.  I  am 
of  Dr.  Richardson's  opinion,  that  a  physician  before 


506  PRINCIPLE   A  RULE   OF   LIFE. 

all  other  men  should  be  straight  and  square  in  his 
testimony  against  drunkenness  and  that  which  pro- 
duces it.  I  quote  again  from  him: 

"  A  doctor  whose  example  turns  the  scale  ever  so  little  toward  intem- 
perance ;  a  doctor  who  treats  this  question  as  a  joke ;  the  doctor,  more- 
over, who  devotes  his  energies  to  his  calling  of  saving  life,  and  who,  with 
forty  thousand  of  his  fellow  country-folk  dying  yeai-ly  around  him  from 
one  cause,  and  who  toward  that  cause  exhibits  indifference,  or  careless- 
ness, or  apathy,  —  what  pretensions  has  he  to  be  a  healer?  Where  is  his 
honor,  to  say  no  word  of  his  feeling?  What  if  some  other  great  cause 
of  mortality  —  say,  of  consumption  —  were  at  work,  slaying  its  thou- 
sands annually,  and  that  cause  were  as  well  known  to  him  as  this  cause, 
would  he  toward  that  be  equally  indifferent?  Would  he  hand  it  about, 
partake  of  it  himself,  give  it  to  his  children,  laugh  at  those  who  are 
wearying  to  sweep  it  away,  or  tell  the  afflicted  from  it  that  it  is  a  neces- 
sity? I  am  sure  he  would  scorn  to  do  any  such  thing." 

I  leave  the  question  to  medical  and  scientific  men, 
only  advising  my  reformed  friend  never  to  take  it  as 
a  medicine.  Die  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  being 
ensnared  by  the  deceiver  that  so  nearly  destroyed 
you.  There  is  no  physician  who  will  or  does  pre- 
scribe it  for  me;  they  know  I  will  not  take  such  a 
prescription;  and  when  they  know  you  will  not  take 
it,  they  will  cease  to  prescribe  it  for  you. 

The  principle  of  total  abstinence,  taking  the  word 
principle  to  mean  a  rule  of  life,  should  be  to  us  a 
reality,  not  to  be  laid  down  or  taken  up  at  the  dictates 
of  custom,  fashion,  habit,  or  craving,  but  to  be  held 
as  a  sacred  rule  to  be  observed  always  and  at  all 
hazards.  Let  the  opposers  call  us  fanatics.  We  are 
in  good  company.  Canon  Wilberforce  says:  "lam 
a  fanatic  on  this  question  of  drink."  Shall  we  not  be 
willing  to  suffer  for  the  sake  of  the  interests  of  the 
cause  to  which  we  owe  so  much?  Let  no  physician 
drive  or  coax  us  from  our  position.  Let  it  be  for  us 
reformed  men  an  impregnable  one. 


ENTHUSIASM,   NOT  FRENZY.  507 

In  a  Scotch  town  last  year  I  was  suffering  fearfully 
with  neuralgia.  It  seemed  as  though  fingers  of  fire 
were  feeling  for  every  nerve  in  my  face,  and  I  could 
not  forbear  crying  out  with  the  severe  pain.  A  gen- 
tleman asked  me  if  I  would  take  a  glass  of  brandy 
if  I  knew  it  would  afford  relief.  When  I  said  no,  he 
told  me  I  was  a  fanatic.  How  easy  it  is  to  use  a  term 
for  reproach!  Many  a  man  has  been  frightened  from 
a  good  work  at  the  cry  of  fanaticism.  They  mistake 
enthusiasm  for  frenzy.  If  a  man  dies  in  defence  of 
his  country's  flag,  even  in  an  unrighteous  war,  men 
call  him  a  hero;  if  a  man  dies  for  a  principle,  he  is  a 
fanatic.  Let  me  tell  those  who  would  sneer  at  us  for 
our  consistency,  that  it  often  requires  more  courage 
to  endure  the  sneers  of  companions,  the  pitying  shake 
of  the  head  from  friends,  and  the  expressed  contempt 
of  society,  than  to  face  the  cannon's  mouth  on  the 
field  of  battle.  Many  a  man  would  mount  the  "  immi- 
nent deadly  breach,"  rather  than  face  the  "  slow-moving 
finger  of  scorn."  So  I  say  to  my  reformed  brethren : 
Stand  to  your  principle.  If  you  make  it  the  rule  of 
your  life  to  abstain,  stand  to  it,  suffer  for  it,  and  if 
need  be  die  for  it;  and  may  God  help  us  all  that  we 
fall  not  back  into  the  bondage  that  so  many  call  free- 
dom, and  are  deceived  thereby. 


CHAPTEK  XXXVI. 

STRIKING   EXPERIENCES. 

Compensations  of  Old  Age  — This  Young  Man  —  The  Old  Warrior  — 
Amusing  Peculiarities  of  Public  Life — The  Liverpool  Barber — "  'Enery, 
sweep  up  this  'Air  "  —  Great  Changes  —  Reforms  —  Improvements  — 
Children  are  Forces  —  An  Important  Question  —  Casket  and  Jewel  — 
Testimonial  presented  —  Boys'  Work  Twenty-five  Years  ago  —  The 
Results  —  Drunkard's  Child  —  "  My  Little  Testament  "  —  Testament 
sold  for  Whiskey—  "  God  be  merciful!  "  —  "  Evil  Habits "  —  Custom 
and  Habit  —  No  Man  lost  on  a  Straight  Road  —  A  Good  Resolution  — 
Miller. 

LD  age  has  been  described  as  a  "  pecu- 
liarly wretched  state,"  nothing  attrac- 
tive in  its  appearance,  and  in  the  reality 
only  an  evil.  Even  Shakspeare  could 
not  avoid  admitting  its  drawbacks: 

'  When  thou  art  old  and  rich 

Thou  hast  neither  heart,  affection,  limb,  nor  beauty, 
To  make  thy  riches  pleasure." 

The  inconveniences  of  old  age  are  manifold.  Old 
age  cannot  be  cured,  but  the  necessary  consequences 
may  be  alleviated.  There  may  be  many  glorious  com- 
pensations to  those  advanced  in  years.  To  the  young, 
old  age  and  failing  strength  appear  to  be  an  unmiti- 
gated evil.  When  I  was  a  boy  of  twelve,  or  even  a 
man  of  twenty-one,  I  looked  upon  fifty  years  of  life 
as  I  now  look  upon  one  hundred;  always  having  a 
dread  of  living  to  be  old,  associating  decrepitude  with 

508 


"WELL,  OLD  MAN."  509 

age.  Now,  at  sixty-three,  I  suffer  no  sensible  diminu- 
tion of  strength,  except  in  a  lessening  of  the  ability 
for  active  exertion.  I  remember  the  first  time  I  was 
called  an  old  man.  Some  years  since,  I  was  travel- 
ling through  Boston  to  the  sea-side,  with  some  of  my 
family,  and,  while  I  was  looking  earnestly  at  a  valise 
I  was  not  quite  sure  of,  a  man  who  was  taking  the 
luggage  from  the  car  called  out,  "Well,  old  man, 
what  are  you  looking  after?  "  It  sounded  queer  then, 
but  I  am  used  to  it  now. 

It  is  quite  amusing  to  look  over  the  earlier  notices 
of  my  personal  appearance;  and  it  seems  so  short  a 
time  since  I  was  spoken  of  as  a  young  man.  "  This 
young  man  with  dark  hair;  "  "  This  pale,  thin  young 
man,  looking  so  attenuated  that  a  tolerably  persever- 
ing gust  of  wind  would  have  no  difficulty  in  puffing  him 
to  any  required  part  of  the  compass."  Now,  I  read 
of  "the  venerable  speaker,"  "the  veteran,"  "the  old 
warrior,"  &c.  At  first  I  was  not  pleased  at  these 
public  reminders  of  age,  or  at  the  constant  remarks 
by  persons  of  no  tact:  "  Ah,  age  is  telling  on  you!  " 
"  You  are  not  as  young  as  you  were !  "  "  You  are 
getting  old !  "  "  How  very  gray  you  are  getting ! "  &c. 
Though  why  I  should  object,  is  a  mystery,  for  it  is 
my  own  fault  if  my  gray  hairs  are  not  honorable.  Yet 
we  do  shrink  from  free  remarks  about  our  personal  ap- 
pearance, and  especially  from  personal  depreciation. 

I  remember  going  from  Brooklyn  to  Flushing,  L. 
I.,  with  a  party  of  friends,  many  years  since.  I  was 
to  deliver  a  lecture  there.  We  were  somewhat  de- 
layed ;  and  when  we  arrived,  the  audience  had  assem- 
bled. I  sat  for  a  few  minutes  on  the  pulpit-stairs 
waiting  for  the  committee,  but  none  appearing  I  went 
into  the  desk,  and  without  introduction  began  my 


510  "LIKE  A  SIEGED  CAT." 

speech.  After  I  had  concluded,  a  man  who  had 
looked  at  me  rather  curiously  from  the  first  moment 
of  my  arrival  till  the  end  of  my  discourse,  came  up 
to  me  as  I  descended  the  stairs,  and  holding  out  his 
hand,  said: 

"  Well,  you  are  very  much  like  a  singed  cat !  " 

Having  never  before  heard  that  the  expression, 
"  singed  cat,"  was  used  to  denote  a  person  who  was 
better  than  he  looked,  I  was  slightly  nettled,  and  asked 
one  of  my  friends  —  who  reminded  me  of  the  fact  the 
other  day  —  why  that  man  should  say  I  was  like  a 
"  singed  cat,"  and  whether  he  meant  it  as  an  offence. 

One  of  the  amusing  peculiarities  of  public  life  is 
in  the  remarks  so  freely  uttered  and  frequently  over- 
heard. 

The  last  day  of  my  first  visit  to  England  I  was  in 
Liverpool.  I  had  spoken  the  evening  before,  and  was 
to  give  my  farewell  speech  that  evening.  In  the 
course  of  the  day  I  went  into  a  barber's  shop.  While 
the  "  professor  of  tonsure,"  as  I  saw  it  announced  the 
other  day,  was  practising  on  my  hair,  he  began  to 
speak  of  the  plentiful  harvest  in  America.  I  said: 

"  I  sail  for  America  to-morrow." 

"  Ah,  indeed,  sir !  You  will  have  as  a  fellow-pas- 
senger John  B.  Grough." 

"Does  he  sail  to-morrow?" 

"  Yes ;  and  I  have  a  ticket  to  hear  him  to-night." 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  him  lecture?  " 

"No,  sir;  have  you?" 

"Yes." 

"How  do  you  like  him?" 

"  I  do  not  think  much  of  him." 

"  Then  you  are  not  a  teetotaler?  " 

"Yes,  lam." 


SOME   PUZZLING   QUESTIONS.  511 

"I  wonder  you  do  not  like  Mr.  Gough." 

"  I  said  I  did  not  think  much  of  him,  not  that  I  did 
not  like  him." 

"  Ah,  that's  very  much  the  same  thing !  What  sort 
of  an  appearing  person  is  he?  " 

"  A  very  ordinary-looking  person." 

"  It  is  plain  to  see  that  you  do  not  like  him.  "What 
might  be  his  size,  sir?" 

"  About  my  size,  I  judge." 

"  Have  you  heard  him  more  than  once?  " 

"  Yes,  many  times." 

"  I  should  hardly  think  you  would  go  so  often  to 
hear  him,  if  you  do  not  like  him." 

"  I  never  said  I  did  not  like  him." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  do  you  know  him?  " 

"  Tolerably  well." 

"  Shall  you  hear  him  speak  this  evening?" 

"  Yes,  I  expect  to  do  so." 

"  Did  you  hear  him  last  evening?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  have  been  quite  desirous  of  hearing  him,  and  I 
have  secured  my  ticket.  —  Does  your  'air  suit  you, 
sir?  Shall  I  put  some  hoil  on  it?  " 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  it  will  do  very  well ;  and  you 
will  have  the  opportunity  of  studying  your  work  on 
the  platform,  for  you  have  been  cutting  Mr.  Gough's 
hair." 

"  Bless  my  soul,  sir !  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  'ope 
I  'ave  not  said  anything  wrong,  or  been  in  hanny  way 
disrespectful." 

"  Oh  no;  on  the  contrary,  you  have  been  quite  com- 
plimentary." 

"  So  you  are  Mr.  Gongh.  I  shall  'ear  you  to-night. 
—  'Enery,  sweep  up  all  this  'air,  and  take  care  of  it. 


512  EVIDENCES   OF  PROGRESS. 

Good-bye,  sir.  I  am  glad  I  'ave  'ad  the  hopportunity 
and  the  honor  of  cutting  your  'air." 

As  I  contemplate  the  past,  how  much  there  is  to  fill 
the  thought  and  stir  the  pulses  in  view  of  the  wonderful 
progress  in  all  directions,  and  the  great  changes  that 
have  taken  place  since  my  remembrance,  and  even 
since  my  first  entry  on  public  life. 

In  1842,  Louis  Philippe  was  king  of  the  French. 
In  1848  came  the  Republic,  growing  into  the  Empire. 
Again,  in  1871,  after  the  Commune,  came  the  Repub- 
lic, routing  the  Empire.  Four  great  wars  have  agi- 
tated Europe:  the  Crimean,  the  Italian,  the  Franco- 
German,  and  the  war  of  Russia  with  Turkey.  In 
1857,  the  great  Indian  mutiny  startled  the  world.  In 
1847  occurred  the  war  of  the  United  States  with 
Mexico,  and  in  1861  commenced  the  war  for  the 
Union. 

What  great  reforms  have  been  inaugurated  in  the 
past  forty  years !  In  nearly  all  the  civilized  portions 
of  the  globe,  from  Japan  to  christianized  Madagascar, 
from  India  to  our  own  free  country,  the  battle  is  going 
on,  and  the  fight  becomes  more  earnest.  Glance 
rapidly  over  the  world  and  see.  The  United  States 
has  given  freedom  to  her  slaves;  Russia  has  eman- 
cipated her  millions  of  serfs.  Germany  is  fighting 
the  double  battle  in  sight  of  the  world,  with  a  keen, 
relentless,  moral  despotism  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  the  struggle  between  the  license  of  mate- 
rialism and  the  freedom  that  walks  in  steadfast  obe- 
dience to  Divine  law.  Italy,  instead  of  being  a  nest 
of  petty  states,  united  only  in  dense  ignorance  and 
abject  slavery,  now  walks  among  the  nations,  free  to 
drain  her  stagnant  moral  marshes;  free  to  say  to  all 
her  people,  "  Rise,  for  thy  light  has  come."  France 


QUEEN   OF   MADAGASCAR.  515 

has  made  leap  after  leap  for  civil  and  political  free- 
dom and  equal  rights;  and  though  not  yet  landed  on 
the  safe  side,  still  her  dissatisfactions  are  noble,  and 
inspire  the  world  with  sympathy  toward  her  struggles. 
England  is  bravely  grappling  with  internal  problems, 
and  burden  after  burden  is  being  lifted  from  the 
shoulders  of  her  people.  Turkey  is  being  pierced 
with  loopholes  for  light.  Egypt  tolerates  Christian 
schools.  Spain  has  seen  the  Inquisition  crumble. 
China's  emperor  is  moving  to  prevent  opium  from 
paralyzing  his  millions  of  subjects.  Japan  asks  of 
the  United  States  teachers  of  schools  after  the  method 
of  to-day,  and  takes  the  Christian  Sabbath  for  her 
Sabbath;  —  all  this  when  her  ports  with  one  exception 
were  barred  against  the  commerce  of  the  world  at  the 
opening  of  this  century.  Hear  the  proclamation  of 
the  queen  of  Madagascar,  where  till  recently  heathen- 
ism reigned  supreme,  with  savage  cruelties  and  per- 
secutions to  the  death  of  all  who  dared  avow  the 
Christian  name: 

"  I,  Ranovalomajaka,  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  the 
will  of  my  people,  Queen  of  Madagascar,  defender 
of  the  laws  of  my  kingdom,  this  is  what  I  say  to  you, 
my  subjects:  God  has  given  me  this  land  and  king- 
dom; and  concerning  the  rum,  you  and  I  have  agreed 
it  shall  not  be  sold,  because  it  does  harm  to  your  per- 
sons, to  your  wives  and  children;  makes  foolish  the 
wise,  makes  more  foolish  the  foolish,  and  causes 
people  not  to  fear  the  laws  of  the  kingdom,  and 
especially  makes  them  guilty  before  God." 

After  encouraging  the  people  to  trade  in  good 
things,  the  queen  declares: 

"  I  am  not  ashamed  to  make  laws  in  my  kingdom 
which  shall  do  you  good;  therefore,  I  tell  you  if 


514  "WHAT  SHALL  IT  BE?" 

there  are  people  who  break  my  law,  I  must  punish 
them." 

Christian  associations  now  flourish  in  the  Fiji 
Islands,  where  cannibalism  reigned  supreme  forty 
years  ago.  India  and  Siam  and  Persia  are  saying, 
through  thousands  of  now  Christian  voices,  "The 
entrance  of  Thy  words  giveth  light."  And  the 
islands  of  the  sea  are  flocking  to  the  standard  of 
liberty  and  Bible  light,  as  doves  come  to  their 
windows. 

In  that  which  tends  to  personal  comfort  and  na- 
tional advancement,  more  has  been  accomplished,  and 
grander  achievements  have  been  realized  in  this  cen- 
tury, than  in  all  the  previous  lifetime  of  our  race. 
Since  my  entrance  into  public  life,  the  changes  have 
been  wonderful.  The  improvements  in  the  modes  of 
locomotion  and  communication  are  amazing.  Pho- 
tography, chloroform,  the  electric  telegraph,  sewing- 
machines,  telephones,  and  many  inventions  strange 
and  curious  at  the  beginning,  now  rank  among  the 
necessities  of  our  present  mode  of  life. 

We  are  almost  bewildered  as  we  look  back  on  the 
past;  and,  seeking  to  penetrate  the  future,  we  ask, 
"  What  shall  it  be  when  the  present  generation  has 
passed  away?"  How  important  it  is  that  those  who 
are  to  fill  our  places  should  feel  the  responsibility 
that  all  this  light  and  development  devolves  on  them! 
They  must  reap  as  they  sow,  and  in  the  far  future 
will  be  garnered  the  harvest  of  their  sowing. 

To  me  a  company  of  children  is  a  most  impressive 
and  suggestive  sight.  The  little  creatures  are  forces 
in  the  world  for  good  or  evil ;  for  none  can  possibly 
be  neutral  in  the  contest  of  the  ages,  —  of  right 
against  wrong,  of  truth  against  falsehood,  of  Christ 


TRUE   PROPAGANDISTS.  515 

against  Belial,  the  kingdom  of  this  world  arrayed 
against  the  kingdom  of  our  God  and  of  His  Christ. 
With  all  my  heart  I  rejoice  and  take  courage  in  view 
of  the  fact  that  a  revival  of  the  temperance  work 
among  children  is  taking  place.  At  three  important 
Sunday-school  conventions  it  has  been  accorded  a 
prominent  place,  and  I  have  been  privileged  to  speak 
on  these  occasions.  At  the  experiment  at  Framing- 
ham  this  year,  in  imitation  of  the  very  successful 
Chautauqua  conventions,  there  was  a  temperance  'day. 
From  England,  Dr.  B.  W.  Richardson  writes,  in  a 
letter  I  lately  received  from  him: 

"Our  cause  is  still  making  good  progress.  The 
young  are  getting  more  and  more  imbued,  and  they 
are  the  propagandists  of  the  true  stamp." 

Here  the  question  comes  to  me,  What  is  the  most 
valuable  thing  that  has  ever  challenged  my  attention 
in  these  thirty-eight  years  of  contact  with  life  ? 
What  now  seems  the  most  precious  occupation  for 
the  most  choicely  endowed  men  and  women  of  this 
day  and  time?  Who  that  takes  this  thought  in  mind 
from  any  altitude  can  give  any  other  answer  than 
this,  that  the  children  of  this  land  are  beyond  all 
comparison  the  forces  that  should  be  first  and  last 
considered  in  all  national,  patriotic,  municipal,  family, 
and  individual  aspirations  and  plans?  All  the  educa- 
tional institutions,  all  legislative  enactments,  all  social 
customs,  every  adult  example,  often  the  unstudied 
sentence,  touches  with  beauty  or  blight  this  fairest 
thing  in  all  creation,  this  most  powerful  influence, 
this  subtlest  and  most  glorious  force,  this  indestruc- 
tible life,  a  little  child.  Casket  and  jewel,  both  so 
exquisitely  formed,  having  such  possibilities  of  light, 
fire,  attraction,  nothing  on  earth  can  equal  it.  And 


516  SAVE    THE    CHILDREN. 

yet  this  lovely  gift  to  the  world  is  left,  in  thousands 
of  cases,  to  be  bent  and  warped  arid  jostled  into  the 
ugliest  and  most  dangerous  forms,  corroded  by  at- 
mospheres that  eat  into  all  its  promising  outlines, 
while  those  who  are  called  by  every  high  motive  to 
reverse  all  these  conditions  are  using  up  their  lives  in 
scrambling  for  things  which,  when  obtained,  shall 
bring  no  satisfaction  to  themselves  nor  benefit  to 
others. 

It  seems  to  me  no  occupation  can  be  so  important 
or  require  such  choice  qualities  as  the  care  and  guid- 
ance of  children,  and  that  it  should  be  reckoned 
among  the  most  honorable  of  the  professions;  and 
that  the  brain,  mind,  and  heart  of  the  truest,  noblest, 
and  most  conscientious  toward  God  and  man  should 
be  the  elected  ones  to  guide  into  the  best  possibili- 
ties the  children.  I  can  desire  nothing  better  for 
this  great  country,  growing  with  such  startling  rapid- 
ity, than  that  a  barrier  high  and  strong  should  be 
raised  between  the  unpolluted  lips  of  the  children 
and  the  intoxicating  cup;  that  everywhere  the  men 
and  women  of  to-day  should  raise  strong  and  deter- 
mined hands  against  whatever  will  defile  the  body, 
pollute  the  mind,  or  harden  the  heart  against  God 
and  His  truth,  of  the  millions  of  children  in  this 
country.  God  grant  we  may  none  of  us  forget 
who  it  is  that  has  said,  "It  were  better  that  a 
millstone  were  hanged  about  his  neck  and  he  were 
drowned  in  the  depths  of  the  sea,"  than  that  he 
should  be  a  means  of  "  offence "  to  "  one  of  these 
little  ones." 

We  often  underrate  the  capacity  of  children  to 
work,  to  be  of  service  in  any  great  movement;  and 
yet  what  great  results  have  been  accomplished  by  the 


A   PLEASANT   EPISODE.  517 

simple  but  earnest  work  and  influence  of  the  young! 
As  an  instance  of* what  may  be  done  by  the  hearty 
and  combined  efforts  of  young  people,  I  would  relate 
a  very  pleasant  episode  in  my  last  experience  in 
London. 

At  a  meeting  held  in  the  Congregational  chapel, 
Victoria  Park,  May  12,  1879,  a  very  beautiful,  and 
elegantly  engrossed  and  ornamental  testimonial  was 
presented  to  me  with  the  following  inscription : 

"Tnis  TESTIMONIAL 

WAS   PRESENTED 

ON  THE  12TH  OF  MAY,  1879, 

TO 

MR.  JOHN  B.  GOUGH, 
TEMPERANCE  ADVOCATE  OF  AMERICA, 

on  the  occasion  of  his  visiting  Bonner's  Fields  to  give  an  oration  at  a 
chapel  erected  on  the  very  spot  where,  some  twenty  years  since,  a  num- 
ber of  youths,  inspired  by  various  anecdotes  of  what  good  the  young 
may  accomplish,  told  in  their  hearing  by  Mr.  Gough,  in  Exeter  Hall  and 
elsewhere,  were  led  to  hold  open-air  meetings,  which  resulted  in  the  for- 
mation, at  Bonner's  Lane,  Bethnal  Green,  of  the  Twig  Folly  Christian 
Temperance  Society  and  Band  of  Hope,  which  has  produced  great  good 
to  the  neighborhood,  and  brought  out  many  earnest  laborers  for  the  cause 
of  temperance,  who  are  still  at  work,  not  only  in  the  metropolis,  but  in 
the  country  also.  As  one  of  the  results  of  your  earnest  temperance  ad- 
vocacy in  London,  this  may  be  an  interesting  and  encouraging  reminis- 
cence during  your  future  labors,  which  we  hope,  under  God's  blessing, 
will  be  continued  to  be  as  useful  as  heretofore.  ...  As  a  grateful  ac- 
knoAvledgment  of  your  many  services  in  the  cause,  the  youths  above 
referred  to,  and  the  older  laborers  in  the  temperance  ranks,  who  helped 
them  in  their  early  efforts,  beg  you  to  accept  their  portraits  and  signa- 
tures." 

Fourteen  finely  executed  photographs  surround  the 
inscription,  and  the  whole  is  most  superbly  designed 
and  executed. 

These  gentlemen,  when  boys,  determined  to  do 
what  they  could  for  the  cause  which  had  interested 
them,  and  for  a  beginning  of  their  effort  instituted  a 
32 


518  A  CHILD'S  INFLUENCE. 

series  of  out-door  meetings  in  Bonner's  Fields,  obtain- 
ing speakers  from  older  societies.  This  led  to  the 
formation  of  a  society  which  grew  rapidly  in  influence. 
Branch  societies  were  formed.  The  parent  society 
now  numbers  seven  hundred  members,  and  their  aux- 
iliaries number  thousands ;  and  on  the  spot  where  they 
held  their  first  feeble  meetings  the  chapel  is  erected 
in  which  I  spoke,  when  Sir  Charles  Reed  presided  and 
the  testimonial  was  presented.  So  much  for  the  efforts 
of  boys  when  determined  and  encouraged. 

The  quiet  influence  of  a  child  has  been  the  means 
of  saving  the  parent.  I  remember  a  little  history  re- 
lated to  me  many  years  ago  by  a  Christian  abstainer. 
He  said  he  would  give  me  the  facts  that  led  to  his 
reform,  and  the  circumstance  that  arrested  him  in  his 
career  of  sin. 

Two  maiden  ladies  who  lived  in  the  village,  often 
noticed  a  scantily  clad  girl  passing  their  house  with  a 
tin  pail.  On  one  occasion  one  of  these  ladies  accosted 
her. 

" Little  girl,  what  have  you  got  in  that  pail?" 

"  Whiskey,  ma'am." 

"Where  do  you  live?" 

"  Down  in  the  hollow." 

"  I'll  go  home  with  you." 

They  soon  came  to  a  wretched  hovel  in  the  hollow, 
outside  the  village.  A  pale,  jaded,  worn-out  woman 
met  them  at  the  door.  Inside  was  a  man,  dirty,  maud- 
lin, and  offensive.  The  lady  addressing  the  woman, 
said: 

'"Is  this  your  little  girl?" 

"Yes." 

"  Does  she  go  to  school?  " 

"  No;  she  has  no  other  clothes  than  what  you  see." 


"MY  LITTLE   TESTAMENT."  519 

"Does  she  go  to  Sunday  school?" 
"  Sunday  school  —  in  these  rags !     Oh,  no !  " 
"  If  I  furnish   her  with   suitable  clothes,  can   she 
go?" 

"  It  is  of  no  use  giving  her  clothes.  He  would  steal 
them,  and  sell  them  for  whiskey.     Better  let  the  girl 
alone ;  there  is  no  hope  for  her,  or  for  us." 
"  But  she  ought  to  go  to  school."  9 

An  arrangement  was  entered  into  whereby  the 
child  should  call  at  the  lady's  house  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing, be  clothed  for  the  school,  and  after  the  school  was 
dismissed,  call  again,  and  change  her  garments  for 
home. 

The  little  creature  was  very  teachable,  and  soon  be- 
came a  favorite  with  her  teacher,  who  gave  her  a  little 
Testament,  probably  the  first  gift  the  child  had  ever 
received.  She  was  very  proud  of  her  Testament,  ex- 
hibiting it  on  all  occasions  with  the  delighted  excla- 
mation : 

"  That's  my  little  Testament  —  my  own." 
She  would  take  it  with  her  at  night,  clasping  it  in 
her  hands  till  she  fell  asleep  on  the  wretched  rags 
called  a  bed.  The  child  was  taken  ill.  The  doctor 
provided  by  her  benefactors  declared  she  would  die. 
Her  friends  furnished  her  with  what  comforts  they 
could,  and  watched  the  father,  lest  he  should  steal 
them  and  sell  them  for  whiskey. 

The  gentleman  then  continued  the  narrative  in  the 
first  person: 

"  One  day  I  went  to  her  bedside.  I  was  mad  for 
drink.  I  had  taken  everything  I  could  lay  my  hands 
oi>.  I  looked  round  the  room.  There  was  nothing 
left,  nothing  I  could  dispose  of.  Yet  I  must  have 
drink.  I  would  have  sold  my  child;  I  would  have 


520  "WHAT  SHALL  i  TELL  HIM?" 

sold  myself,  for  whiskey.  The  little  creature  lay  on 
the  bed,  with  the  Testament  clasped  in  her  hand, 
partly  dozing.  As  I  sat  there  she  fell  asleep,  and  the 
book  slipped  from  her  fingers,  and  lay  on  the  coverlid 
of  the  bed.  Stealthily  looking  round  the  room,  I 
stretched  out  my  shaking  hand,  seized  the  Testament, 
and  hastily  thrust  it  into  my  bosom.  I  soon  sneaked 
out,  li^e  a  guilty  thing,  to  the  grog-shop.  All  I  could 
get  for  it  was  half  a  pint  of  whiskey.  It  was  a  poor 
little  book.  I  drank  the  Devil's  drink  almost  at  a 
draught,  and  soon  felt  relieved  from  the  burning 
thirst.  The  stagnant  blood  in  the  diseased  vessels  of 
my  stomach  was  stimulated  by  the  fiery  fluid,  and  I 
felt  better.  What  took  me  back  to  my  child  I  cannot 
tell,  but  I  sat  again  by  her  side.  She  still  seemed  to 
be  sleeping;  and  I  sat  there  with  the  horrible  craving 
stayed  for  the  time  by  the  whiskey  I  had  drank,  when 
she  opened  her  eyes  slowly  and  saw  me.  Reaching 
out  her  hand  to  touch  mine,  she  said,  '  Papa,  listen. 
I'm  going  to  die,  and  when  I  die  I  shall  go  to  Jesus; 
for  He  told  little  children  to  come  to  Him.  And  I 
shall  go  to  heaven;  for  He  said  that  little  children 
were  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  learned  that  out 
of  my  Testament.  Papa,  suppose  when  I  go  to 
heaven  Jesus  should  ask  me  what  you  did  with  my 
little  Testament.  Oh,  papa!  oh,  papa!  what  shall  I 
tell  Him?'  It  struck  me  like  lightning.  I  sat  a  few 
moments,  and  then  fell  down  on  my  knees  by  the  bed- 
side of  my  child,  crying,  (  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a 
sinner.'  That  half-pint  of  whiskey  was  the  last  drop 
of  intoxicating  liquor  that  has  passed  my  lips.  She 
died  in  a  few  days,  with  her  hand  in  mine,  and  ber 
last  words  to  me  were,  'Papa,  we  shall  both  go  to 
Jesus  now.' " 


FORCE    OF  HABIT.  523 

May  Heaven  bless  the  dear  children!  We  need 
them  as  workers,  and  we  must  remember  that  drunk- 
enness would  die  out  with  the  present  race  of  the 
intemperate,  death  alone  would  remove  the  evil  in 
thirty  years,  were  there  no  more  drunkards  made. 
There  is  no  necessity  for  the  existence  of  this  curse 
to  the  world.  But  while  men  and  women  use  intoxi- 
cating liquors  as  a  beverage,  drunkenness  will  con- 
tinue. All  past  experience  testifies  to  this.  Therefore 
our  great  hope  is  in  training  the  children  understand- 
ingly  to  abstain  from  the  use  of  an  article  which  at 
the  best  can  be  but  a  luxury,  and  never  a  necessity  as 
a  beverage.  I  am  exceedingly  glad  that  public  atten- 
tion is  drawn  to  these  facts,  and  we  have  hope  for  the 
future. 

What  I  said  in  the  beginning  of  this  book  I  repeat 
now:  "Man  is  in  a  great  degree  the  arbiter  of  his 
own  destiny."  We  can  make  ourselves  what  we  will. 
Byron  said,  "  I  am  convinced  that  men  do  more  harm 
to  themselves  than  ever  the  Devil  can  do  to  them." 
To  the  young  I  would  say,  Beware  of  the  formation 
of  evil  habits;  remember  habit  is  acquired.  What 
we  are  accustomed  to  do  gives  a  facility  and  prone- 
ness  to  do.  "  How  shall  ye  do  good  who  are  ac- 
customed to  do  evil?  "  Archbishop  Whately  says, 
"  Habits  are  formed  not  at  one  stroke,  but  gradually 
and  insensibly;  so  that,  unless  vigilant  care  be  em- 
ployed, a  great  change  may  come  over  the  character 
without  our  being  conscious  of  any."  Dr.  Johnson 
says,  "  The  diminutive  chains  of  habit  are  seldom 
heavy  enough  to  be  felt  till  they  are  too  strong  to  be 
broken."  Again,  Archbishop  Whately  makes  this 
distinction  between  custom  and  habit:  "Repeated 
acts  constitute  the  custom,  and  habit  is  the  condition 


524  NONE   LOST   ON  A   STRAIGHT  ROAD. 

of  mind  or  body  thence  resulting."  Thus  the  custom 
of  drinking  produces  the  habit  of  craving,  and,  that 
yielded  to,  the  habit  of  drunkenness.  "By  accus- 
toming ourselves  to  any  course  of  action  we  acquire 
an  aptness  to  go  on,  a  facility,  a  readiness,  and  often 
a  pleasure  in  it;  our  aversion  grows  weaker,  the  diffi- 
culties lessen,  and  a  new  character,  in  many  respects 
and  habits  of  life  not  given  by  nature,  may  be  formed." 
Acts  repeated,  like  a  cable  formed  by  the  repetition 
of  twisted  threads,  soon  consolidate  into  habits  that 
form  a  second  nature.  The  power  of  habit  to  con- 
solidate virtuous  character  is  illustrated  in  the  in- 
creasing stability  of  every  good  man,  the  sentiment 
of  whose  heart  becomes  like  that  of  the  Psalmist, 
"I  hate  vain  thoughts,  but  Thy  law  do  I  love;" 
while  its  almost  invincible  power  for  evil  is  illustrated 
in  the  increasing  depravity  of  sin.  "  They  encourage 
themselves  in  an  evil  matter;  they  search  out  iniqui- 
ties ;  they  accomplish  a  diligent  search."  "  He  hath 
left  off  to  be  wise,  and  to  do  good;  he  deviseth  mis- 
chief on  his  bed."  If  every  act  tends  to  the  forma- 
tion of  habit,  and  every  habit  goes  to  form  character 
and  render  it  unalterable,  who  can  calculate  the  inter- 
minable consequences  attached  to  every  voluntary  act? 
A  friend  of  mine  once  said  that  this  motto  should 
be  written  over  the  door  of  every  young  man's  cham- 
ber :  "  ~No  man  was  ever  yet  lost  on  a  straight  road." 
As  we  look  back  on  our  own  experience,  we  realize 
how  wide  a  course  of  wrong  doing  and  thinking  orig- 
inated in  one  step  from  the  rough  road  of  duty  to  the 
smooth  path  of  inclination.  Could  we  have  always 
been  on  our  guard,  what  mortifications,  regrets,  hu- 
miliations, and  sufferings  would  have  been  spared  us! 
Have  you  by  thoughtlessness  or  recklessness  acquired 


A  WIRE  HOLDS  YOU.  525 

habits  that  are  a  hindrance  to  your  prosperity,  de- 
structive to  your  peace,  and  under  the  bondage  of 
which  you  groan?  Remember,  if  you  would  ever  be 
free,  it  will  be  easier  to-day '  to  break  your  fetters 
than  it  ever  will  be  again  in  this  world;  for  habit 
strengthens  with  age.  It  is  hard  and  painful  to  up- 
root an  old  habit;  it  is  harder  to  unlearn  than  it  is  to 
learn.  It  is  easier  to  break  the  single  thread  than  the 
strong  cord.  The  difficulty  is,  the  thread  seems  so 
small  you  can  break  it  when  you  will,  and  with  ease. 
Try  it,  and  you  will  be  surprised  at  the  effort  needed. 
A  wire  around  your  little  finger,  securely  fastened  to 
a  pillar,  holds  you  as  certainly  as  an  iron  band  with 
copper  rivets.  If  you  are  held,  it  matters  not  how 
small  or  large  the  agent  seems  to  be;  it  holds  you. 

A  good  resolution  faithfully  kept  has  saved  many  a 
man.  When  Hugh  Miller  was  a  stone-mason,  it  is 
stated  that  he  drank  at  one  time,  in  company  with 
several  of  his  fellow- workmen,  two  glasses  of  whiskey. 
On  reaching  home,  he  took  up  Bacon's  Essays,  and 
found  the  letters  dance  before  his  eyes,  and  he  could 
not  master  the  sense,  when  he  said,  "  In  that  hour  I 
determined  that  I  would  never  sacrifice  my  capacity 
for  intellectual  enjoyment  to  a  drinking  usage,  and  by 
the  help  of  God  I  was  able  to  keep  my  resolution." 


CHAPTER    XXXYH. 


LAST   GLEANINGS. 

My  First  Visit  to  the  Theatre  —  Booth  and  Hamblin  —  "  Apostate,"  and 
"  Review  " — The  Old  Bowery  —  My  Passion  for  the  Stage  —  Interview 
with  a  Manager  —  Comic  Song  at  the  Chatham  —  Persevering  Efforts 
to  be  an  Actor  —  The  Summit  of  Ambition  —  The  Old  Lion  of  Boston 
—  Charles  Thorn  —  Charles  Eaton  —  "  Roll  him  in  and  tap  him  "  — 
Tinsel  and  Sham  —  My  Disenchantment  —  Thanks  that  my  Way  was 
blocked  —  Power  to  overcome  —  Coleridge  —  A  Good  Impulse  — 
"  Art  thee  crazy,  Lad?  "  —  The  First  Sermon  —  Paying  Debts  like  a 
Christian  —  The  Last  Race  —  Retrospection  —  Contrasts  —  Lessons 
learned  —  Encouragements  —  Last  Words. 

ANY  of  us,  in  looking  back  on  our 
experiences  of  fifty  years  of  life, 
must  recall  some  instances  of  mer- 
ciful interposition,  when  our  own 
will,  purpose,  and  determination  have 
been  set  aside  by  an  unseen  but 
powerfully-felt  agency,  and  we,  with 
our  will  and  purpose  set,  have  been 
compelled  to  take  an  entirely  opposite 
course  from  that  we  had  planned,  or  have  been  mys- 
teriously, or  I  would  rather  say  providentially,  hin- 
dered from  carrying  out  our  determined  plans. 

When  quite  a  young  man,  I  had  an  intense  desire, 
almost  amounting  to  a  passion,  to  adopt  the  theatrical 
profession.  I  was  fascinated  by  the  theatre,  stage- 
struck,  enamored  of  all  dramatic  representation. 

526 


FASCINATED   BY   THE    STAGE.  527 

I  shall  never  forget  the  sensation  on  my  first  visit 
to  the  theatre.  It  was  the  Old  Bowery.  The  play 
was  "  The  Apostate : "  Mr.  Booth  the  elder  as  Pes- 
cara,  Mr.  Hamblin,  the  manager,  as  Hemeya,  and 
Miss  Vincent  as  Florinda.  The  after-piece  was 
"The  Review;  or,  The  "Wags  of  "Windsor:"  Mr. 
Booth  as  John  Lump,  Mr.  Hamblin  as  Looney  Me- 
Twolter.  Between  the  tragedy  and  the  farce,  Rice 
jumped  Jim  Crow,  I  cried  and  laughed.  I  was 
thrilled  by  the  tragedy  and  convulsed  by  the  farce. 
It  was  a  new  world.  How  beautiful  were  the  women ! 
how  noble  were  the  men !  Even  Pescara,  as  his  eyes 
flashed  with  malignant  hate,  was  like  a  creature  above 
the  mere  human.  The  gorgeous  dresses,  the  music 
and  lights  dazzled  me.  I  went  home  to  my  lodgings 
fascinated,  carried  out  of  myself.  How  mean  and 
poor  was  my  little  bedroom,  and  what  a  dreary  mo- 
notony of  life  mine  was,  plodding  in  a  shop  to  learn  a 
trade !  Trade,  profession,  occupation,  business,  —  all 
was  tame,  slow,  grovelling,  compared  with  the  glori- 
ous, the  grand,  the  bewildering  pursuit  of  the  actor. 
Again  and  again  I  enjoyed  the  delicious  enchantment, 
and  fully  determined  that  I  must  be  an  actor,  —  I 
must  strut  my  hour  upon  the  stage.  I  envied  the 
poor  stick  who  came  on  to  remove  the  tables  and 
chairs,  the  poor,  despised  supe;  even  the  doorkeeper 
was  an  object  of  interest.  Yes,  I  was  smitten. 

With  what  awe  and  reverence  would  we  stage- 
struck  boys  watch  some  celebrated  actor  in  the 
streets.  It  was  an  event  worth  recording.  "  I  saw 
Forrest  to-day."  "I  saw  Booth  to-day."  I  have 
even  followed  them  and  set  my  foot  on  the  same 
stones  they  had  trodden.  Remember  I  was  but  six- 
teen years  of  age.  These  boys  had  each  their 


528  THE   DRAMATIC    SOCIETY. 

favorite  actress,  for  whom  they  would  fight;  ay,  and 
throw  down  the  gauntlet  to  all  comers  in  her  defence. 
How  we  would  crowd  around  the  stage-door  to  see 
some  actor  or  actress  pass  out  or  in !  Madame  Celeste 
was  a  great  favorite ;  we  were  never  weary  of  singing 
her  praises  or  witnessing  her  performance.  I  should 
hesitate  to  say  how  many  times  I  had  seen  her  in 
"  The  French  Spy." 

To  some  persons  all  this  may  appear  strange.  They 
cannot  conceive  the  attraction  of  all  the  stage  para- 
phernalia and  the  glamour  thrown  round  certain 
minds  by  the  glitter  and  unreality  of  the  stage. 

I  have  been  often  asked  why  I  did  not  adopt  the 
stage  as  a  profession.  It  was  not  from  lack  of 
desire,  though  I  do  not  pretend  that  I  possessed  the 
ability  to  become  an  actor  of  repute.  "Why  I  did  not, 
after  all  my  attempts,  I  cannot  tell,  but  that  I  was 
hindered,  blocked  in  every  direction,  to  my  sore  vexa- 
tion. 

I  will  not  write  here  how  the  desire  took  full  pos- 
session of  me,  and  rendered  me  for  a  time  almost 
useless.  I  know  it  led  me  to  neglect  the  duty  that 
lay  before  me.  I  eagerly  devoured  any  plays  that  I 
could  lay  hold  of;  learned  parts.  I  could  repeat  and 
spout  Jaffier,  in  "  Venice  Preserved."  From  tragedy 
to  comedy;  from  farce  to  melodrama.  I  even  con- 
templated writing  a  play.  I  have  carried  a  tattered 
play-book  surreptitiously  to  my  work-bench,  and 
learned  the  whole  play  while  at  my  work,  and  then 
would  mouth  it  and  tear  it  to  pieces  in  the  most 
extravagant  theatrical  style.  I  joined  a  dramatic 
society.  I  played  Zanga,  in  the  "Revenge;"  the 
Doctor,  in  the  "Duenna;"  Jeremy  Diddler,  in  the 
"Raising  the  Wind,"  and  some  other  minor  parts; 


"I   WANT   TO   BE   AN   ACTOR."  529 

but  my  resources  were  so  limited  I  was  compelled  to 
give  up  tlje  dramatic  society.  Yet  all  my  available 
funds  were  expended  on  theatre  tickets. 

One  day  I  determined  to  make  a  desperate  effort 
for  a  footing  on  the  stage ;  and,  getting  excused  from 
the  shop  for  a  day,  I  ventured  to  enter  the  box-office 
of  the  Bowery  Theatre  and  inquire  for  Mr.  Hamblin. 
I  was  told  that  he  was  on  the  stage,  and  that  I  could 
see  him  by  applying  at  the  stage-door.  So  to  the 
stage-door  I  went,  and  for  the  first  time  I  stood  behind 
the  scenes.  A  drearier  place  I  had  seldom  seen,  but 
my  ardor  was  not  damped  by  the  contrast  to  all  the 
glory  I  had  connected  with  the  stage.  When  the 
gentleman  appeared,  I  was  fearfully  embarrassed,  but 
gathered  courage  to  ask  if  he  wanted  an  actor.  "With 
a  smile,  he  asked  me  several  questions,  such  as  what 
parts  I  had  studied,  what  line  of  business  I  desired, 
what  I  considered  myself  fit  for.  I  gave  such  an- 
swers as  my  confusion  would  allow,  and  at  last 
blurted  out:  "I  want  to  be  an  actor.  If  you  will 
engage  me,  I  \vill  do  anything;  black  your  boots,  run 
your  errands,  be  your  servant."  He  checked  me  by 
asking  what  my  business  was.  I  told  him,  "  book- 
binding;" when  he  said,  "Ah,  young  man,  you  had 
better  stick  to  bookbinding,"  and  turned  his  back  on 
me.  Though  rebuffed,  I  was  not  discouraged,  but 
determined  to  persevere. 

I  then  applied  to  William  Sefton,  of  the  Chatham 
Theatre,  for  permission  to  sing  a  comic  song  between 
the  pieces.  The  permission  was  granted,  with  a  note 
to  the  leader  of  the  orchestra  to  rehearse  with  me; 
and  under  the  name  of  Gilbert,  I  sang  the  "  Water 
Party,"  and  actually  obtained  a  generous  encore.  I 
remember  that  night  the  play  was  the  "Golden 


530  SUMMIT   OF  AMBITION. 

Farmer,"  John  Sefton  as  Jimmy  Twitcher.  The 
actors  were  all  dressed  for  their  respective  parts,  and 
they  encouraged  me.  The  stage-manager  said  I  had 
done  very  well,  but  no  engagement  followed. 

Soon  after,  I  left  New  York,  and  for  awhile  I 
worked  in  Providence,  where  I  became  acquainted 
with  some  gentlemen  attached  to  the  theatre,  lost  a 
good  situation  through  neglect  of  my  duties  and  a 
fascination  for  the  stage,  and  through  the  influ- 
ence of  a  Mr.  Barry  obtained  an  engagement  at  the 
Lion  Theatre,  Boston.  Surely  I  am  now  at  the  sum- 
mit of  my  ambition  —  a  permanent  engagement  on 
the  staff  of  artists  at  a  regular  theatre.  Before,  it 
had  been  an  occasional  appearance  to  fill  up  a  gap  at 
a  temporary  place  of  entertainment.  Alas!  I  found 
the  gold  to  be  tinsel.  Here  I  acquired  a  thorough 
distaste  for  all  theatrical  representations,  and  all  the 
genius  and  intellect  displayed  by  the  most  famous 
actor  has  not,  and  never  can,  reconcile  me  to  the 
sham,  the  tinsel  crowns,  the  pasteboard  goblets,  the 
tin  armor,  the  paltry  spangles,  cotton  for  velvet,  all 
make-believe,  the  combats,  and  the  sham  blood.  Even 
the  nightly  disguise  became  an  annoyance;  the  paint- 
ing the  face,  corking  the  eyebrows,  pencilling  the 
wrinkles,  the  doing  up  with  false  whiskers,  hair, 
moustache,  the  French  chalk,  the  rouge,  the  burnt 
cork,  to  say  nothing  of  the  habiliments,  rendered  the 
whole  thing  at  the  last  odious  to  me;  and  I  never  felt 
meaner,  or  had  less  self-respect,  than  when  I  was  be- 
dizened to  do  some  character.  How  men  of  ability 
and  common  sense  can  submit  to  this  caricaturing 
night  after  night,  passes  my  poor  comprehension. 

In  that  theatre  I  found  some  men  of  education  in 
the  higher  walks  of  the  profession;  but,  oh,  the  dis- 


"TAKEN  AN  OLD  CASK/'       531 

enchantment!  The  beautiful  women  were,  some  of 
them,  coarse  and  profane;  the  noble  gentlemen  often 
mean,  tricky,  and  sponging.  In  fact,  the  unreality  of 
it,  the  terrible  temptation  to  the  lower  forms  of  vice, 
especially  to  those  of  the  nervous,  excitable  tempera- 
ment, increased  by  the  falsehood  and  fiction  involved 
in  their  profession,  in  seeming  to  be  what  they  never 
were  or  could  be,  studying  virtue  to  represent  it  on 
the  stage,  while  their  lives  were  wholly  vicious,  re- 
pelled me.  Mark  me  well,  I  do  not  say  this  of  all 
actors.  I  only  speak  of  the  special  temptations  of 
this  special  profession. 

The  Lion  Theatre  company  was  selected  for  a 
short  season.  There  were  some  good  actors.  Charles 
Thorn  was  stage-manager.  There  was  Chapman, 
J.  K.  Hall,  and  others  I  might  name ;  one  especially, 
Charles  Eaton,  a  graduate  of  one  of  our  principal 
colleges;  genial,  warm-hearted,  nobody's  enemy  but 
his  own.  I  do  not  believe  the  elder  Booth  person- 
ated lago  more  powerfully  than  Eaton.  He  was  a 
genius,  very  ready  with  his  retort,  on  or  off  the 
stage.  On  one  occasion,  in  the  play  of  "  Pizarro," 
Eaton  sustaining  that  character,  one  of  the  attend- 
ants rushes  in  with  the  cry,  "My  lord,  we  have  just 
taken  an  old  cacique"  Pizarro, who  has  been  worked 
up  by  the  occurrences  of  the  drama  to  a  fearful  pitch 
of  fury,  replies,  "Drag  him  before  me!"  But  in- 
stead, the  supernumerary  rushed  in  and  roared  out, 
" My  lord,  we  have  just  taken  an  old  cask"  Eaton, 
who  as  Pizarro  was  prepared  with  the  correct  reply, 
looked  for  a  moment  amazed;  but,  startled  by  a  titter 
among  the  audience,  he  shouted  out,  "Koll  him  in, 
and  tap  him;  "  and  after  the  roar  of  applause  and 
laughter  had  subsided,  in  which  Eaton  and  all  on  the 


532  MERCIFUL   HINDRANCES. 

0 

stage  joined,  the  play  proceeded.  Poor  Eaton !  every 
one  knows  what  a  wreck  he  became. 

In  spite  of  much  that  was  attractive  to  a  young 
man  of  my  temperament,  I  felt  an  unaccountable  re- 
pugnance to  adopting  acting  as  a  profession;  and  so 
when  the  theatre  closed,  in  about  three  weeks  after  I 
entered  it,  I  never  tried  again,  being  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  my  experience,  though  it  lasted  for  so  short 
a  time.  Looking  back  from  my  standpoint  to-day,  I 
thank  God  that  hindrances  were  thrown  in  my  way, 
and  that  I  utterly  failed  in  accomplishing  my  cher- 
ished purpose.  It  may  be  I  failed  for  the  lack  of 
dramatic  genius.  However  that  may  be,  I  am  glad 
that  I  failed;  for,  though  many  have  succeeded  in 
resisting  the  temptation  surrounding  them  in  the  pro- 
fession, I  know  —  and  the  world  knows  —  that  many 
have  been  wrecked,  and  I  have  no  conception  that  I 
should  have  escaped;  so  that  I  consider  the  hin- 
drances were  merciful. 

In  my  past  experience  I  recall  impulses  that  have 
come  to  me  mysteriously,  and  sometimes  under 
strange  circumstances.  I  remember  one  illustration. 
When  in  Worcester,  England,  twenty-six  years  ago, 
I  was  a  guest  of  a  gentleman,  a  member  of  Parlia- 
ment, who  resided  just  opposite  the  city  on  the  banks 
of  the  river,  a  delightful  place,  with  a  lawn,  rock- 
work,  and  trees  artistically  planted.  I  was  at  that 
time  a  smoker,  and  though  I  never  smoked  in  a  gen- 
tleman's house  without  an  invitation,  I  deemed  it 
necessary  to  have  my  smoke  after  dinner,  if  by  any 
means  I  could  get  it  with  no  annoyance  to  others.  So 
after  dinner  I  strolled  down  to  the  river-side,  out  of 
sight  of  the  house,  took  out  my  cigars  and  matches, 
and  proceeded  to  light  a  cigar.  The  wind  blew  out 


SMOKING,   NOT   PRAYING.  533 

the  match.  Another  was  tried,  and  another.  I  took 
off  my  hat  to  shield  it  from  the  wind.  It  was  of  no 
avail.  I  got  some  brimstone  down  my  throat,  or 
something  as  bad;  but  the  cigar  would  not  ignite. 
Then  I  kneeled  down  close  to  the  rock  by  the  path  at 
the  side  of  the  river,  and  with  my  hat  off  endeavored 
to  secure  the  object.  !N"ow,  I  never  go  on  my  knees 
but  I  am  reminded  of  prayer,  and  the  thought  came, 
"If  any  one  should  see  me,  they  would  probably 
think  that  some  man  had  sought  that  retired  spot  for 
private  devotion,  and  that  he  was  saying  his  prayers; 
and  what  am  I  doing?  I  am  sucking  away  at  a  cigar, 
hoping  to  obtain  fire  enough  from  the  match  to  get  a 
smoke.  What  would  the  audience  say  who  heard  me 
last  night,  should  they  see  me  now?  "  The  inconsist- 
ency of  my  practice  with  my  profession  struck  me  so 
forcibly,  that  I  said,  "  I'll  have  no  more  of  it."  I  rose 
from  my  knees,  took  cigars  and  matches  and  threw 
them  into  the  river,  and  I  never  touched  a  cigar  to 
smoke  for  eighteen  years. 

For  our  encouragement  we  have  some  splendid 
records  of  the  power  to  overcome  when  men  have 
yielded  to  a  good  impulse,  and  in  God's  name  and 
seeking  His  help  have  resisted  all  temptation,  and 
thus  have  been  enabled  to  fight  to  the  end  unflinch- 
ingly. 

By  his  own  letters  and  Cottle's  reminiscences,  it  is 
abundantly  proved  that  for  eight  or  ten  years  Cole- 
ridge, with  all  his  mighty  gifts,  seemed  utterly  lost  to 
his  friends  through  intemperance.  "Wordsworth  and 
Cottle  had  given  him  up,  and  were  looking  every  day 
to  hear  of  his  death.  His  wife  had  ceased  to  hear  or 
to  desire  to  hear  any  further  of  or  from  him,  and  he 
probably  had  not  a  real  friend  in  the  world  who  had 


534  A   GOOD   IMPULSE. 

the  slightest  hopes  of  ever  seeing  him  reformed. 
Wordsworth  had  appointed  watchers  to  be  with  him 
night  and  day.  He  had  violated  every  pledge,  de- 
ceived every  friend,  lost  his  honor,  self-respect,  and 
all  confidence  in  his  own  power  to  conquer  this  all- 
absorbing  vice.  When  an  outcast,  without  a  guinea, 
he  did  the  wisest  and  most  conscientious  thing  he  had 
ever  done,  and  which  altered  the  destiny  of  his  whole 
future  life.  After  some  correspondence  with  a  physi- 
cian, to  whom  he  revealed  his  situation,  he  became  an 
inmate  of  the  family  of  Dr.  Gilman,  of  Highgate. 
There  he  lived  for  thirty  years,  restored  by  loving 
and  respectful  treatment,  and  moral  and  medical  care 
and  restraint.  He  entered  the  house  an  humble  peni- 
tent, the  slave  of  opium.  He  dwelt  there  for  almost 
a  generation,  living  and  at  length  dying  a  Christian; 
and  he  earnestly  desired  that  after  his  death  a  full 
statement  of  his  case  might  be  laid  before  the  world. 

When  a  man  yields  to  a  good  impulse  because  it  is 
good  and  right,  it  will  never  lead  him  astray.  I  met 
a  man  who  is  a  living  and  striking  example  of  this. 
A  brief  sketch  of  his  career  was  published  some  time 
since  by  Rev.  John  Guttridge,  of  Manchester,  Eng- 
land. He  was  a  sporting  man,  and  was  regarded  as 
no  ordinary  racer.  He  had  been  matched  and  betted 
on  forty-seven  times.  He  was  very  popular,  and  he 
resolved  to  open  a  beer-house,  which  should  serve  as 
a  place  of  resort  for  his  associates.  There  was  in  him 
a  good  deal  of  natural  tenderness,  and  some  con- 
science; and  in  my  experience  I  have  found  among 
some  of  the  hardest  characters  a  tenderness  that  was 
surprising.  Jerry  McAuley,  once  a  river-thief  and  a 
"  hard  case,"  now  a  tender-hearted  Christian,  the  love 
of  Jesus  melting  the  heart  once  so  callous.  One  day 


- 


* 


"l'LL«GET   OUT   OF  IT."  537 

this  man  noticed  a  poor  woman,  with  two  or  three 
children,  whose  husband  was  drinking  in  his  shop, 
looking  anxiously  in  at  the  door.  The  thought  of  the 
meanness  of  selling  beer  and  making  money  out  of 
the  poverty  of  this  family  struck  him  quite  forcibly, 
and  the  impulse  to  get  out  of  the  miserable  business 
came  on  him  with  such  power  that  he  said  to  his  wife, 
"  See  here,  lass,  I'll  work  my  fingers  to  the  stumps 
before  I'll  keep  a  box  like  this ;  and  I'll  get  out  of  it." 
When  it  was  known  that  he  purposed  giving  up  the 
business,  he  was  advised  to  advertise  and  sell  it. 
What  was  his  reply?  "N"a,  na;  I  give  it  up  because 
it's  bad;  and  I'll  put  no  man  in  a  bad  business  for 
money.  If  any  man  goes  into  this  box,  he  goes  in  on 
his  own  bottom  for  all  me."  To  a  brewer,  who  offered 
to  put  him  in  a  larger  and  more  profitable  house,  he 
said,  "  ~Na,  I  would  not  do  it  for  all  the  world.  I'd 
die  first."  At  that  time  he  saw  no  evil  in  the  drink 
itself,  only  in  its  abuse.  He  therefore  secured  a 
house,  and  took  to  it  several  barrels  of  ale  and  porter 
for  moderate  use.  One  day  he  saw  a  notice  in  the 
street  of  a  temperance  meeting  to  be  held.  He 
yielded  to  the  impulse,  and  decided  to  go.  Under 
the  influence  of  the  lecture,  which  was  delivered  by 
Mr.  Jabez  Inwards,  of  London,  he  went  home,  hast- 
ened to  the  cellar,  and  turned  the  tap  of  every  barrel. 
His  wife,  being  told  by  one  of  the  children  what  was 
going  on,  rushed  into  the  cellar. 

"What  are  thee  doing,  lad? " 

"  Don't  thee  see  what  I  be  doing." 

"  Eh !  but  wilful  waste  makes  woful  want,  and  thee 
art  wasting  the  good  stuff." 

Seeing  that  she  produced  no  effect  by  her  appeal, 
she  said: 

33 


538  THE   FIKST   SERMON. 

"Art  thee  crazy,  lad?" 

"No,  I'm  not  crazy;  I'm  coming  to  my  senses." 

"  But  how  dost  thee  think  I  can  care  for  the  chil- 
dren without  a  drop  of  ale?" 

"  Thee  must  try  porridge,  for  I'll  have  no  more  of 
the  stuff  in  the  house." 

He  soon  signed  the  pledge  of  total  abstinence,  and 
it  was  to  him  the  dawn  of  a  new  life.  It  was  rolling 
away  the  stone  from  the  door  of  the  sepulchre.  His 
next  good  impulse  was  to  go  to  a  place  of  wor- 
ship, having  never  been  into  one  before.  The  only 
religious  exercise  he  remembered  was  part  of  a  prayer 
by  a  street  preacher.  He  went  of  his  own  accord, 
with  no  invitation,  to  hear  the  gospel  preached 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  If  I  was  a  preacher,  I 
would  prefer  an  audience  of  men  and  women  who  had 
never  heard  the  sound  of  the  gospel,  than  an  audience 
of  those  who  had  heard  the  message  for  forty  years, 
and  been  unmoved  by  it.  The  first  sermon  he  heard 
was  from  the  passage  in  Timothy :  "  Godliness  is 
profitable  unto  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the 
life  that  now  is,  and  that  which  is  to  come."  The 
preacher  was  not  a  learned  man,  or  a  refined  and  elo- 
quent speaker;  but  his  homely  phrases  were  thor- 
oughly understood,  and  the  effect  produced  was 
shown  by  the  remark,  after  the  discourse:  "If  it's 
true  what  that  chap  says,  it  will  just  suit  me.  Only 
think!  good  for  this  life,  and  good  for  t'other.  All 
right  now,  and  all  right  then.  Safe  here,  and  safe 
there.  That's  just  what  I  want,  and  I'll  have  it." 

This  led  to  his  seeking  and  finding,  and  the  com- 
mencing of  a  consistent  Christian  life.  His  fifteen 
years'  recklessness  had  left  him  in  debt;  so  he  did 
what  every  Christian  should  do,  —  began  to  pay  his 


"MATCH  WITH  THE  DEVIL."  539 

debts.  He  had  seven  little  children,  and  was  owing* 
one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  without  a  penny  to 
meet  his  obligations.  He  went  to  his  principal  cred- 
itor, to  whom  he  was  indebted  seventy-five  pounds, 
and  engaged  to  pay  five  shillings  per  week,  which  he 
did,  never  missing  a  week  for  more  than  five  years. 
To  another  creditor,  who  had  never  even  mentioned 
the  debt  to  him,  he  went,  three  years  after  he  became 
a  Christian,  and  said: 

"  I  believe  I  owe  thee  seven  pounds.  Now,  I  've  a 
pig  that  I  Ve  fed  instead  of  feeding  the  publican,  and 
thou  canst  have  the  pig." 

"  Well,  lad,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  '11  take  the  pig ;  and 
if  there 's  aught  over,  I  '11  pay  thee  the  balance." 

The  pig  was  killed,  weighed,  and  the  balance  of 
three  pounds  ten  shillings  was  paid  over. 

On  one  occasion  an  old  companion,  who  did  not 
understand  the  great  change  wrought  in  him,  called 
at  his  shop  to  obtain  some  sporting  information,  and 
wished  to  know  who  was  going  to  win  the  race  in 
Hyde  Park. 

"  I  do  not  know  anything  at  all  about  it." 

"Nay,  thee  canst  tell  us  something  about  it;  thou 
knowest  what  they've  done  afore." 

"Nay,  lad;  I've  nobbut  another  race  to  run,  and 
then  I've  done." 

"Another  race  art  thee  going  to  run?  Another 
race?  Who  is  it  with?  Hast  thee  made  another 
match?  " 

"Ay ;  I've  made  a  match  with  the  Devil  for  eternal 
life  and  my  own  soul,  and  it  will  take  me  all  the  days 
of  my  life  to  beat  him." 

His  old  companion  was  quite  taken  aback.  A 
cannon-shot  would  scarcely  have  surprised  him  more 


540  WILLIAM  WILBERFORCE. 

than  such  a  reply  from  one  who  had  been  so  famous 
as  a  sporting  character  and  so  frequently  applauded 
in  "Bell's  Life." 

"When  I  shook  hands  with  him,  last  year,  he  was 
sixty-four  years  of  age,  and  had  been  an  earnest 
worker  for  temperance  and  a  consistent  Christian  for 
twenty-nine  years,  with  a  family  of  six  sons  and  two 
daughters  walking  with  him  in  the  right  road,  one  of 
his  sons  being  a  successful  Christian  minister.  He 
occupies  a  respectable  position;  has  never  been  for- 
saken ;  has  been  blessed  in  "  basket  and  store,"  body 
and  soul,  and  has  been  the  means  of  great  blessing  to 
others.  The  beginning  of  all  this  was  the  yielding  to 
a  good  impulse  and  giving  up  what  he  believed  to  be 
wrong.  Such  a  lesson  needs  no  comment. 

In  the  retrospection  necessary  to  the  compilation 
of  such  a  book  as  this  there  are  multitudes  of  inci- 
dents, passages  of  experience  almost  forgotten,  that 
spring  up  in  the  memory  with  a  vividness  positively 
startling;  and  as  this  work  draws  to  a  conclusion, 
the  material  seems  of  larger  bulk  than  at  its  com- 
mencement. 

In  1827,  when  a  boy  of  ten,  I  was  taken  by  my 
father  to  a  prayer-meeting  held  in  the  lodgings  of 
the  celebrated  William  Wilberforce,  in  my  native  vil- 
lage of  Sandgate.  After  the  meeting  Wilberforce 
called  me  to  him,  I  being  the  only  boy  there,  and, 
laying  his  hand  on  my  head,  gave  me  his  blessing. 
In  1879  I  was  a  guest  of  his  grandson,  Rev.  Basil 
Wilberforce,  Canon  of  Winchester,  at  the  Deanery  of 
St.  Mary's,  Southampton.  In  June,  1829,  I  left  the 
village  of  Sandgate,  a  boy  of  twelve,  on  the  top  of  a 
night-coach,  for  London,  on  my  way  to  America.  In 
June,  1879,  fifty  years  after,  I  visited  Sandgate  to  lay 


"WORK  DOIJE  FOR  GOD."  541 

the  corner-stone  of  a  memorial  coffee-palace,  and  re- 
ceived a  most  cordial  greeting.  As  we  were  entering 
the  village  the  carriage  was  stopped,  and,  in  the  kind- 
ness of  their  hearts,  the  people  took  out  the  horses 
and  drew  us  through  the  main  street.  On  every  side 
were  streamers  and  flags  and  words  of  welcome. 
Between  these  points,  and  during  the  years  that  in- 
tervened, what  a  varied  experience  had  been  mine! 
And  the  great  lessons  learned  from  it  all  are,  that 
life  is  a  warfare,  a  conflict  against  the  power  of  evil; 
that  life  is  unsatisfactory  unless  there  has  been  work 
done  in  reference  to  another  and  higher  state  of  ex- 
istence; that  there  is  something  to  live  for  above  the 
fleeting,  selfish  pleasures  that  so  many  spend  all  to 
obtain,  and  die  miserably  poor. 

We  know  that  though  we  may  see  no  results  from 
our  whole  life's  labor,  and  die  without  a  sign  that  our 
work  has  been  approved  or  successful,  yet  we  must 
remember  that  — 

"  Work  done  for  God,  it  dieth  not." 

"We  may  die  and  be  forgotten,  but  our  works  shall 
live  after  us.  The  good  seed  we  have  been  permitted 
to  sow  shall  result  in  a  harvest  that  others  shall 
gather.  To  me  the  great  encouragement  is  that  "  He 
shall  subdue  all  things  unto  Himself;"  "  He  shall  put 
all  things  under  His  feet."  Let  us  not  be  disheart- 
ened, though  the  evil  we  seek  to  remove  seems  to 
stand  solid  and  unyielding  against  all  our  efforts. 

On  our  rugged  and  romantic  coast  we  see  the 
mighty  bastion  of  rock  withstanding  the  fury  of  the 
waves,  and  apparently  impregnable.  Hark  to  the 
thunder  of  the  crash,  as  they  dash  themselves  against 
these  cliffs,  and  come  in  full,  sweeping  charge  against 


542  LAST   WORDS. 

these  rocks.  They  fall  back,  broken,  weak,  and  discom- 
fited. Yet  they  only  give  place  to  fresh  levies  repeat- 
ing the  assault,  and  they,  like  their  predecessors,  are 
hurled  back  defeated.  "  The  war  seems  endless.  Yet 
by  slow  degrees  the  sea  gains  on  its  silent  enemy;  it 
undermines,  it  channels,  it  gnaws  caverns,  it  eats  out 
chasms,  it  wears  away  the  surface  little  by  little,  it 
grinds  into  sand,  it  gashes  with  scars,  and  will  never 
rest  till  it  has  dragged  down  its  opposing  walls  into 
its  depths."  So,  in  the  great  conflict  of  right  and 
wrong,  generation  after  generation  may  pass  away, 
apparently  defeated,  and  the  wrong  appear  to  gain 
the  mastery  and  hold  it,  but  victory  must  come.  "  If 
it  tarry,  wait  for  it;  for  it  shall  surely  come."  "  He 
shall  take  to  Himself  His  great  name  and  rule." 

And  now,  as  I  lay  down  my  pen,  in  view  of  all 
these  years  of  life,  I  can  say,  with  Montgomery  in  his 
sonnet  on  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress :  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  known  and  felt  and  suffered  all 
That  tempts  or  thwarts  the  pilgrim  on  his  way ; 
Have  proved  how  bitter  'tis  to  go  astray, 
How  hard  to  climb,  how  perilous  to  fall ; 
Now  halting,  ere  I  tread  the  enchanted  ground, 
I  look  behind,  before  me,  and  around." 

"  Back  to  the  Cross,  where  first  my  peace  was  sealed, 
I  turn  mine  eyes :  it  darts  a  single  ray, 
A  clue  of  light  through  ah1  '  the  narrow  way ; ' 
Past,  present,  future,  are  at  once  revealed. 
Press  on,  my  soul!  what  now  thy  course  shall  stay? 
No  foe  can  conquer  thee,  unless  thou  yield." 


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